


Polar Opposites

by ramsitter



Series: You're the Good Things [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Modern AU - No Bending, Scuba Diving, friendship is key
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramsitter/pseuds/ramsitter
Summary: Zuko isn't exactly happy working at his father's company, but he's content enough--until an ethical disagreement in front of the board lands him in the hospital. Out of a job and alone except for his uncle, he enters an ugly downward spiral. He stumbles into Hakoda's dive shop as part of his therapy-mandated mission to get a hobby and finds the first bright spot in his new life. Recovery takes time.Please see beginning notes for content warnings!! The first chapter deals with heavy theme and gets quite dark in the middle. It gets fluffier in chapter two. Modern AU.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: You're the Good Things [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564243
Comments: 45
Kudos: 265





	1. The Part of the Day that I Can't Sleep Away

**Author's Note:**

> **Content warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, violence (Zuko is burned). This chapter gets dark in the middle.**
> 
> Part 2 of my crack concept in which I attempt to write a Zutara one-shot inspired by a Modest Mouse song from each of their albums and somehow turn it into something I'm proud of. Title and lyrics below come from the song of the same name, from 'The Lonesome Crowded West'.
> 
> “I’m trying to drink away the part of the day that I can’t sleep away”  
> “Polar opposites don’t push away”
> 
> I don't own any of the Avatar characters. Also I am not a scuba instructor, don't listen to me, listen to the professionals.

Zuko recognized that he had turned into a pathetic excuse for a human being, but couldn’t really bring himself to do anything about it. It had been 34 days and 3 hours since shit had well and truly hit the fan, and he reasoned that he was entitled to at least a bit more wallowing in misery.

The first 19 days of Zuko’s new life had been spent in a whirlwind of doctors, nurses, and police office, many visits from his uncle, and one memorable visit each from Azula and his father. He didn’t remember much about the actual trip to the hospital or the first day or so of his stay there. The first memory from those early days, rising from the haze of heavy sedation and pain medicine, was a doctor explaining that the burn was worse than it felt because the nerves had been damaged. He’d gone for his first surgery not long after that, based on Zuko’s admittedly shaky grasp on time. 

Azula’s first reaction to his new face many days later was an involuntary wince hastily rearranged into a smirk. “Well, brother, it seems like you finally pushed too far.” Zuko had ignored her, but that hadn’t stopped her from waxing poetically about her future now that he was out of the way.

Ozai’s visit had been perfectly timed: just after the police had left, but before Iroh could return from wherever the cops had made him wait. The small part of Zuko that hadn’t been burned away was reluctantly impressed. “I’ve come to make sure you aren’t running your mouth.”

Zuko had attempted to raise his eyebrows. The left side of his face didn’t cooperate the way it had before, and although he tried not to mourn the loss of his favorite expression while his father was watching, the ache in his chest grew a little deeper. “Do you think you could have walked right in here if I was?” His voice was as bland as he could manage, but his hands were clenched into fists beneath the blankets and shaking slightly.

Zuko’s favorite expression had been inherited; Ozai’s eyebrows lifted. At least his new face would mean the physical resemblance would be gone.

Ozai moved to stand at the foot of Zuko’s bed. Unfortunate luck had placed Zuko’s left side closer to the door. Although the bandages had been removed two days prior and he was no longer totally blind to the door, Zuko hadn’t gotten used to seeing through the damage the doctor’s hadn’t been able to repair. Uncle always made a point to sit on his right. Ozai would make no such gestures.

“If it wasn’t abundantly clear already, you’ve been fired. Expect no severance pay or benefits.” This was wildly illegal, and especially unfortunate considering the hefty hospital bill about to be saddled onto Zuko. There was no doubt Ozai would backdate his loss of coverage to some time before the incident.

The information did not surprise Zuko. What did surprise him was the overall lack of effect the announcement had on him. The first few days had been nothing but anger, and seeing his father had brought back some of that emotion. But the anger had quickly fizzled out into something dull and heavy. It weighed Zuko down. He had managed one almost witty comeback to greet the man who had put him in this bed, and had nothing more to give.

“I won’t be seeing you.” Ozai turned and disappeared without another word, without a second glance, without any hesitation. Iroh had burst through the door immediately, apologizing for not being there, apologizing for being held back by one of Ozai’s bodyguards.

“It’s okay,” Zuko had said, “It doesn’t matter.” It didn’t.

————————————————————

Zuko was released after nineteen days of surgery and healing with strict instructions for continued treatment at home. Iroh managed to convince him to come stay at the old house where Zuko had lived during that especially bad year in high school, but he only lasted there five days.

His own apartment was now significantly out of his budget, but the fridge full of beer and the simple comfort of sleeping in his own bed outweighed everything else. He spent each day the same way: sleep, eat, drink, sleep again.

On the fourth night, he caved and texted Mai. He had managed to avoid the temptation for months, easily the longest off period in their on-again, off-again “relationship”. He’d been having some success dulling the dullness with alcohol, and hoped that Mai could help even more. By the time she arrived, Zuko was very, very drunk. 

He had assumed she had heard. 

Even though she hadn’t visited, Mai was Azula’s friend. Zuko couldn’t imagine a scenario where Azula managed to not gloat about her new found only child status in front of her.

It wasn’t until he opened the door and shock crossed Mai’s usually rock solid face, her bag dropping to the floor, that Zuko realized he’d underestimated his little sister’s desire for chaos. She could keep a secret, if it benefited her in the long run. She’d been counting on Zuko’s weakness and wanted to wreak even more havoc all over Zuko’s already poor decision making by withholding any details.

“Zuko…” Mai bent down to retrieve her bag from the floor, and had mostly recomposed her face by the time she straightened up. “What…happened?”

She wouldn’t come inside until he stepped fully out of the way and as he turned around from closing the door behind her, even his highly inebriated brain registered that she was standing a little too far away for it to be anything but a conscious decision. Her eyes hadn’t left the ruined side of his face. Zuko couldn’t identify the expression on her face from lack of practice seeing anything besides stoic boredom there.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” He shoved the beer in his hand at her, and grabbed two more from the fridge before swinging himself onto the couch.

The apartment was a mess, but not a total disaster. Uncle still liked to stop by to check on him unannounced, and Zuko suspected that the only reason he bothered sweeping empty bottles into the recycling bin every morning was fear of Iroh seeing the state of the place. The old Zuko would have had an aneurysm from just looking at it, but the new Zuko just watched Mai take in the scene with wide eyes.

She had not moved from her place by the front door. Mai didn’t like to talk about things, didn’t particularly care how his day had been or what he’d had for lunch. She didn’t care much about what made Zuko _Zuko_. This was not the first time one of them had caved and sent that text; they both knew exactly what this visit was for.

Tonight, though, Mai sank slowly to the couch on the far side from Zuko. “She didn’t tell me.” It was a whisper.

Zuko opened the second bottle and managed a shrug. “Are you really that surprised?” He leaned his head against the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. Looking at nothing was easier than looking at something. It let him pretend there was nothing wrong with his eye. 

Mai did not reply, and Zuko heaved the deep sigh of the well and truly intoxicated. He closed his eyes. That was especially effective for allowing him to pretend there was nothing wrong with his eye. Now that she was here, he wanted Mai to leave. But she’d come all this way, and maybe she actually could help.

There was nothing nice or romantic about the kiss. Zuko’s hands went roughly to her waist, dragging her toward him and into his lap. Back before the on/off nonsense had started, during the time when things were as good as he and Mai could ever be together, there had been real passion between them. Mai had loved to run her hands through his hair and tug on it when he kissed her neck. She’d cup his face, run her knuckles along his jawline, follow them with her lips. She’d nibbled playfully on his earlobe, kiss his neck just beneath.

The burn had destroyed all of the hair follicles along his left temple back toward his ear, which no longer resembled any ear Zuko had ever seen. He’d had the rest of his hair buzzed shorter than he had memory of it ever being to see what, if any, would grow back.

That night, her hands didn’t stray above his shoulders. Her lips stayed either on his mouth or didn’t touch him at all. 

Zuko could feel all the new skin on his face pull with any twitch of his facial muscles, an unfortunate thing when it came to kissing. The places on his thigh where the doctors had taken skin for the grafts felt like they were burning when Mai brushed against them, though they were already healed. 

Zuko had been losing weight despite the questionable nutritional value in his diet of beer, frozen pizza, and 7-Eleven taquitos. Most of the exercise he got was moving from his bed to the couch to the fridge to the bathroom and back. With his clothes off, Zuko became painfully aware that, in all the ways that mattered, he was no longer the man Mai had once known.

As she used the bathroom and gathered her things, Zuko felt even worse than he usually did after seeing Mai. Sometimes she’d stay the night, especially on weekends. Zuko didn’t know what day it was, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way.

At the door, Mai turned. “I hope you get better, Zuko.”

“Goodbye, Mai,” he said, because that’s what she’d meant.

————————————————————

Twice a week, Zuko had to go to the outpatient burn facility to make sure he was healing correctly. If it were up to him, he would never go. But Uncle was invested in his healing and had made a habit of scheduling a lunch meet-up for after the appointments. Very little made it through to Zuko, but even the heavy darkness couldn’t be overwhelmed by his desire to not let Iroh down.

“I think you should go talk to someone.” Iroh had started the conversation with pleasantries and false cheeriness. In his old life, it all would have set Zuko on edge, would have set off alarm bells to prepare for something he didn’t want to hear. He would have been prepared, before.

New Zuko didn’t bother to prepare for anything. He met Iroh’s gaze for a moment. He looked older and sadder than Zuko remembered seeing him, hands cupped gently around a glass of tea. Guilt twitched deep inside his brain, trying to fight to the surface. “See…someone?”

“You’re not doing well, Zuko. Talking to someone about how you’re feeling might help your healing process.”

Zuko—in both his old and new lives—didn’t like to talk about his feelings. “I’m fine. The people at the clinic said I’m healing up just as expected.”

Zuko was not fine. He had taped newspapers over the mirror in the bathroom and taken the one on his bedroom wall down completely. Rationally, he realized that this was a problem. New Zuko didn’t care much for rationality. Only the small amount of self-preservation he had left told him to stop letting Iroh into the apartment. 

Iroh frowned deeply. “There are more types of healing than just physical, Nephew. And although your body might be putting itself together, that is not the only thing that needs repair.”

Zuko found it in him to muster up a scowl. “I don’t need a shrink. I’m not Azula.”

“I never said you were. But she’s doing better.”

Even Zuko could admit that she was doing better. But all the bad years was one of the reasons Zuko was resistant to the idea of _seeing someone_. While the doctors had been playing around with her lithium dosages, Azula hadn’t even been Azula anymore; she hadn’t been much more than a shell.

The bit of Zuko from his previous life that lived deep down tried to argue. _Are_ you _much more than a shell at this point?_ He ignored it. That Zuko was dead. 

————————————————————

On day 67, Iroh had to leave Republic City. An old Pai Sho friend was ill and Iroh couldn’t miss the chance to say goodbye. “You should come along, Nephew. A change of scenery might be a good thing.”

Zuko scoffed. “I don’t want a bunch of old people hovering over me asking if I’m okay all the time.” The effort to pack and travel was just too much for him to handle.

Iroh sighed. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Uncle. I’ve been fine.” Zuko was still not fine. In fact, he grew a little less fine every day. He’d sold his car and bought a motorcycle. It had no reflective windows, no rearview mirror. “My hair is growing back, that’s helping.” He’d said it mostly to try to placate Iroh, but it was a little bit true. He hadn’t had it cut since the incident, and it got closer to covering the wreck of his ear every day.

Iroh didn’t look like he necessarily believed a word coming out of Zuko’s mouth, but they had spent enough time arguing when Zuko was a teenager to know that pushing wouldn’t help any. “I’ll be gone for six days. Don’t forget about your appointment on Tuesday. You should call a friend, get dinner or something.”

Zuko had never been great with friends. He had some acquaintances from work, none of whom would risk their jobs to hang out with him. Friends from college had mostly scattered or just grown apart. “Yeah, I’ll look into it.”

Iroh hugged him tightly. “You are very dear to me, Nephew. I wish you could come along with me.” Zuko patted his shoulder stiffly. The dark pit in his chest began to churn as he watched Iroh climb into the cab to the airport.

The next day, Zuko skipped his appointment at the burn center. He slept until 1pm, wandered to the kitchen to eat a slice of three day old pizza, and napped on the couch. Around 6, the contents of his stomach forced themselves back up and into the toilet. He stumbled back to bed without brushing his teeth. Old Zuko’s skin would have crawled. The dark pit’s churning has turned into a storm.

The day after that, he got out of bed once to pee.

The day after that, he sat cross-legged on the floor of his closet, staring at the back of the cheap mirror he’d ripped from the wall weeks ago. There was a black hurricane drowning him. His hands reached out and turned the mirror around without his brain telling them to. It had been a long time since Zuko had really looked at himself. His hair was a bit of a disaster, too long but not yet long enough, flat in places from sleeping. He had always been pale, but the pallor of his skin was now sickly. The lines of his cheekbones are sharper than he remembered. 

The scar is different than he remembered too. He was supposed to be massaging it every day, an activity he had been lying about doing to the people at the burn center since his very first appointment. It was less red, but still puckered and uneven. Zuko watched as he lifted a hand to trace over the edges, feeling the sensation of his awareness of the touch shift when he reached the scar itself. His hand was shaking by the time it reached the twisted shell of his ear.

The mirror shattered. Somehow, his knuckles are bleeding. Fragments of mirror rained down over his legs and reflect his image many times over as he examined the damage. He leaned forward, his forehead pressed against the cheap backing of the mirror. He can feel bits of broken glass press against the top of his head and more pieces rained down onto his shoulders. 

His breath came in stuttering gasps. With his eyes open, he could see himself reflected back up at him, dozens of tiny, ruined Zukos. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that wasn’t much better. His brain looped Ozai’s sneering face over and over, from the day Zuko’s life imploded. It had been such a small thing, a simple suggestion, but it had pushed his father off the ledge of carefully practiced sanity.

Zuko had always known, deep down, that his father wasn’t a good person. The company wasn’t much more than a front. Researching and supplying weapons and navigation technology was a huge moneymaker, netting Sozin Enterprises contracts with governments across the globe. It also provided the opportunity to sell to private companies, and what Ozai liked to refer to as ‘special interest groups’. Ozai didn’t ask questions, simply provided whatever was paid for.

After an insurgent group on the outskirts of the Si Wong Desert released a propaganda video with stacks of Sozin Enterprise ammo boxes in the background, Zuko got the bright idea to confront his father about how their products had ended up in the hands of terrorists. Ozai had scheduled a board meeting, presumably to figure out how to divert the bad press following the video’s release, but these meetings had always been more of an excuse to sit around smoking cigars and drinking expensive alcohol than to actually make business decisions. Zuko had once desperately wanted to be part of them.

He flung his badge at the security system outside of his father’s estate, nodding once at the guard manning the gate. The house was lit up, but Zuko knew that Ozai only ever did ‘business’ on the veranda out back. 

“Zuko,” his father drawled when he stepped out of the house. The rest of the board turned to stare. “What a pleasant surprise. Why don’t you join us?” There was nothing in Ozai’s voice that suggested he meant the words.

Zuko stayed standing, glancing over the gathered men. More than one was already too deep in their cups, and all were watching him with varying levels of distaste. Zuko could feel the expression mirrored on his own face before he smoothed it to address his father. “I’d rather talk to you about something in private.”

Ozai raised his eyebrows, set his glass down, and leaned forward on his elbows expectantly. “There’s nothing you can’t say to me that can’t be said in front of the rest of the board, is there?”

The temptation to flee was almost overwhelming. It had been years since Ozai had raised a hand against him, but the way it felt never disappeared. Zuko took a deep breath and held his ground. “I want to know how our ammunition got into the hands of those terrorists in the Si Wong Desert.”

The soft murmurings of the other men dropped off immediately. Someone choked on their drink. Zuko didn’t let his eyes leave his father’s. Amusement sparked in them. “Come, now, Zuko, it’s so hard to keep track of these things. Those materials could have been stolen from us at so many different times during their shipments to their rightful owners.”

“Then we need better security for our shipments.”

Ozai scoffed and took another sip of his firewhiskey. “Honestly, I don’t much care where they end up, as long as I’ve been paid. These little insurgent groups are good for business.”

“Good for business!” Zuko’s entire body felt hot. “They’re killing children to prove a point! You’re a monster if you believe that.”

Ozai stood the moment he’d raised his voice. “On second thought, maybe we should have that word in private.” All of the heat that had rushed through Zuko in his anger froze solid and was replaced by cold dread. Before he had even had a chance to replay what he’d said, Ozai jerked his head and Zuko’s arms were grabbed by two of the many guards wandering the perimeter of the veranda.

Ozai followed from a few paces back as Zuko was dragged into the house, stopping to mutter something to yet another guard. “Put him up on the table.” Zuko tried to fight back, but he was the more wiry kind of strong that made him quick on his feet. The brutes pinning him to the table outweighed him by at least fifty pounds of pure muscle each. “You are weak. You have always been weak, and now you think you can disrespect me in my own home, in front of my employees?” Ozai paused his pacing at Zuko’s shoulder, staring down at him, his mouth screwed up in disgust. “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.” He lifted a hand, and the guard he’d spoken to outside appeared.

Zuko was still trying to break the hold on his shoulders. He couldn’t focus on anything as fear rolled through his body. At his father’s direction, hands tightened on his shoulders, grasped his hair and held his head flat. There was weight holding down his legs. Whatever Ozai was holding was glowing. No, it was burning.

“Watch your hands,” Ozai instructed whoever was holding Zuko’s hair. The sight of the burning liquid as it tipped out of his father’s hands was the last thing Zuko remembered seeing before he passed out from the pain.

In his closet, Zuko couldn’t breathe. He picked up as many pieces of mirror as he could, folding his fists over them to hide his reflection. In the very back of his mind, he could feel them cutting his palms, but the hurricane raging inside his chest was spreading to his brain. He couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears, and his vision was starting to go black. It would be so easy, with all this glass. Too easy. He’d never have to look at his face ever again. Uncle would never have to worry about him again. Uncle.

_Uncle, Uncle._

Zuko blinked, but he still couldn’t see. He tried to breathe, and his vision expanded to pinholes. _Uncle, Uncle._ He crawled to the bed, the glass still cutting into both of his hands. He forced himself to release some of the pieces, enough to unlock his phone. _Uncle, Uncle. Uncle could help._ He dialed the number and sobbed when he heard Iroh’s voice. “Zuko?”

“Uncle.” It was a gasp, it was a sob. “Uncle.”

“Zuko, what’s wrong.” If he had any of his senses working properly, he would have heard the panic rising in Iroh.

“Help. I need help. Can you help.”

“Hang on Zuko, I’m here.” He shouted something away from the phone. “Are you at home?”

Zuko nodded and forced himself to speak. “Yes, yes I’m home.” His sobbing was starting to slow down, but only the heavy darkness remained in its wake.

“Are you hurt?”

“No…not…yet.”

“Okay, that’s good Zuko. I can help, help is coming. Do you think you could help me? Could you try to unlock your door?”

Zuko looked up from where he had collapsed against the side of his bed, looked toward his bedroom door. It was closed, and he’d have to pass the bathroom and go through the living/dining room to get to his door. “I can try.” He stood and nearly fell, catching himself on his bed, smearing blood on the sheets. “I can try.”

Iroh was whispering to someone else as Zuko moved the five steps to his bedroom door. “You’re doing great, Zuko.” He opened the door and sucked in a huge breath before moving into the hallway. He leaned heavily on the wall, knocked off balance when he ran into the bathroom door frame. “Zuko?”

“I’m here.” He was almost out of the hallway. He could see the front door. It felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he crashed into the door and twisted the deadbolt with a shaking hand. He slid to the ground against the door to the coat closet. “I did it, Uncle.” Another huge breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for this.”

“Oh my dear boy, there is absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

He had started to cry again, and the paramedics found him curled in a ball against the door to the coat closet, his phone clutched in one hand and shards of mirror in the other. When Iroh entered into his hospital room five hours later, they both burst into tears. Zuko allowed himself to be gathered into his Uncle’s embrace in a way he hadn’t in years.

“Oh Zuko. I am so so sorry. I should have seen how much you were hurting. I’ve let you down.”

“No, Uncle, never.” 

Zuko could tell when Iroh returned the next morning that he’d been to the apartment. The look on his face made Zuko feel like he was being dragged to the bottom of the ocean. He didn’t hesitate to tell the doctors that he would be staying with his uncle when he was being evaluated for risks. Uncle took the list of recommended therapists and all the rest of Zuko’s discharge papers before taking him home and settling him into bed. “I’m sorry, Uncle.” Uncle held him tightly, pressing his face against the top of Zuko’s head. 

The darkness lingered in the pit of his stomach, but the storm had passed. 

————————————————————

One of Zuko’s assigned therapy tasks was to find a hobby. After three weeks of two sessions a week, they’d moved on from discussing the myriad trauma Zuko had endured simply for being a member of his family to what they would do about it. “What are some things you like to do, Zuko?” When he didn’t have an answer to the question, she tried again. “How about in high school or college? Any sports or clubs?”

Zuko considered. High school hadn’t been a great time between dealing with moving out of Ozai’s house and Azula’s illness. College had been nothing but focus and dedicated study. “I was on the swim team in high school, and did martial arts when I was little.”

His doctor beamed. Any time he supplied any information at all, she acted like he’d made a huge breakthrough. He hated it. But the fact that he had the energy to hate things again might be a sign he was working his way towards a breakthrough. The cyclical argument just frustrated him more.

“Let’s try to brainstorm a little.” Everything was always a gentle suggestion, another thing Zuko hated. He was starting to regret sticking with this therapist after their initial session, but that Zuko had been pulled so far into the black hole that he genuinely hadn’t cared then. She insisted that he call her by her first name, to ‘build rapport’. “If you had to choose between swimming and martial arts, which would it be?”

Zuko considered. He’d genuinely enjoyed both. But he anticipated that he’d have to follow up on whatever choice he made. He was painfully thin and felt weak, and knew that any attempts to get back into Kung Fu would be disappointing. “I guess swimming, right now.”

“Great! Let’s take things slow and see about getting you in a pool. Do you have access to one currently?”

Zuko shrugged. “My old gym had a pool.” Thursdays were his pool days, back in his old life. “I don’t want to go back there.”

She scribbled something without looking down at the paper, instead narrowing her eyes at Zuko slightly. “Why not, Zuko?”

He glared back, angry with himself for opening up the opportunity for questions. “There’s a lot of regulars there. People who know me—knew me before.” Lin was well versed in Zuko’s insistence to treat his life as two completely separate pieces. He could sense her desire to work through that cluster, but hadn’t started yet. 

“Zuko, eventually you’ll have to see people from the time before your accident.” What Zuko hated most about therapy was that even though he had told Lin almost everything, it was still that—almost. The true source of the scar was still a secret he held wrapped up around his heart.

“Not if I don’t want to,” he growled. Lin didn’t even blink, just scribbled more notes. He wanted to throw something.

Lin’s watch buzzed, announcing the impending end of their session. “We’ll come back to some of this on Thursday, I think. In the meantime, I’d like for you to think about a way to get back involved with swimming. It can be something more broad, maybe help out with children’s swim lessons or—” She had already closed her notepad, but reopened it to add some more notes when she saw the expression on Zuko’s face, a small smirk appearing. “Or,” she continued loudly, making it clear that he could ignore the previous option, “maybe try out scuba diving or something like that.”

“I’ll look into it.” Zuko actually didn’t hate the scuba diving suggestion. It was something he’d always been interested in, but he’d never had the chance to learn before his mother died and they stopped going on vacations. He slid his credit card across the table and tried unsuccessfully not to feel bitter. He had worked himself into a mood by the time he sat down across from Iroh at their normal sandwich shop.

“Hello, Nephew.” Iroh was looking at him with faint amusement on his face. 

Zuko sunk lower in his seat and crossed his arms tighter over his chest. He felt his chin lift on it’s own. It felt almost like an expression. “I hate therapy, Uncle.”

Iroh beamed and couldn’t fully hold back a chuckle, which grew at Zuko’s glare. “I much prefer your anger to your apathy. What was so bad about your session today?” 

They ordered their usual meals and Zuko recounted all of the annoyances of the previous hour. About halfway through his explanation, he realized that he was only continuing to grumble because the little smile didn’t leave Iroh’s face. Something close to an emotion stirred in his chest. 

————————————————————

Two weeks later, Zuko parked his motorcycle in one of the spots of a little strip mall lot. There were, shockingly, four dive shops in Republic City, and Zuko found himself standing outside of the top rated one on a Saturday morning earlier than new Zuko had ever left the house. The Kya Diving School was sandwiched between a clothing boutique on one side and an office space for rent on the other. The decals on the windows advertised different classes and offerings in big blue letters.

Zuko sighed and pushed open the door, which chimed softly to announce his arrival. The scent of chlorine hit his nose, and pleasant memories of his time on the swim team filtered up. This was one of the shops that had it’s own pool for training. The main room was packed full of different equipment, and fake fish dangled from the ceiling.

A large framed photo of a young Water Tribe couple was hung on the back wall near the door to the pool area. They were both in wetsuits, perched on the edge of a boat. The woman had her hair pulled back into a knot and was smiling broadly while giving the camera a thumbs up. Something about her face, the way her eyes smiled, reminded Zuko of his mother. The man was all square angles and broad shoulders. He had an arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulders and was looking toward her instead of the camera.

“Anything I can help you with?”

Zuko turned toward the voice. He was the only person in the shop, though the pool area was full based on the amount of noise filtering up. The man walking out from behind the counter was the same man in the photo, but maybe 30 years older. Despite the gray in the hair around his temples he looked strong, and he was sizing Zuko up in a way that seemed to suggest he would be prepared to do something about him if Zuko decided to cause trouble.

“I was looking for some info about scuba certification classes.” He guessed that most shop patrons didn’t wear leather and arrive carrying motorcycle helmets.

The man’s eye scanned Zuko from head to toe. The attention made Zuko tense, but the man’s eyes didn’t snag on Zuko’s scar. The pale scar across the man’s own temple did not escape Zuko’s notice, but he didn’t stare either. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you the different options.” 

Zuko followed the man over toward the counter. There was something gruff and intimidating about him, but more in an Uncle Iroh way than an Ozai way. “You have any water experience?” The man was still looking intensely at Zuko as if he were able to absorb information that way.

Zuko nodded a bit hesitantly. With the exception of various medical professionals and his uncle, this was the most one-on-one human interaction he’d had in a long time. “I was on the swim team in high school. My sister and I had snorkel masks and stuff when I was little, but we never really used them for anything other than right off the beach. And that was a long time ago.”

The man nodded and made a sound that Zuko couldn’t decode. “We’ve got a couple classes with openings starting the week after next.” He slapped a piece of paper onto the counter. Zuko flinched. The man paused to reassess the new information, and hummed thoughtfully. “The class has three parts. There’s an online part that you can complete on your own time, prior to actually coming in to the shop. There’s group time in the pool to get familiar with equipment, and then there’s training dives.”

He stabbed a finger at the middle section of the paper. “There’s eight to ten hours of pool time here at the shop. Those are once a week in the evenings Monday through Thursday, starting at 6pm. It’s a five week course, 2 hours the first week, and then between an hour and half and two hours for the remaining four weeks. If you can’t do the 6 o’clock, we can try to work with you on a time.”

Zuko didn’t have to worry about not being able to make any times. He had to be somewhere exactly 2 times per week: therapy and lunch with Uncle.

“Training dives are on Saturday mornings either out in the harbor or in the lake over by the old mine.” He moved his finger to the bottom section of the paper, tapping the table with the costs in it. “You can either rent the equipment you need or get a pretty nice discount on buying stuff if you sign up for the courses.”

Zuko had known that scuba diving was expensive, but this was a larger number than he had been anticipating. He was again grateful for Uncle’s support, and the money he had in savings from his mother. He straightened his shoulders and nodded at the man once. “I’d like to get my name on a sign up list.”

“Any nights you can’t do during the week?” The man had pulled an enormous binder from beneath the counter and cracked it open.

Although tempted to lie, Zuko shook his head. “No, sir.”

He found the pages that he was looking for, and swapped between two multiple times before settling on one. “Let’s do Wednesday then. My son teaches that course, and it’s a smaller group than the other nights right now. Any thoughts about what you want to do for gear?”

Zuko shook his head. “I’d probably like to buy the essentials, and rent the larger equipment for now. And I need recommendations.”

“Of course,” the man waved Zuko to follow after him again. They were about the same height, but Zuko felt much smaller standing next to the man and a rack of wetsuits. “I’m Hakoda, by the way, this is my shop.” He stuck his hand out.

“Zuko.”

Hakoda’s eyes drifted to Zuko’s scar for the first time, lingering for a moment before snapping his gaze back to Zuko’s. “Does it still hurt?”

Zuko tried not to wince, tried to keep his shoulders from curving in on themselves. No one besides his doctors had asked him a direct question about it yet. “No sir,” he said softly, “It never hurt at all.” Of course, that wasn’t strictly true. The time before he passed out had been excruciating, and held felt like minutes but had probably only been a few seconds.

Hakoda frowned slightly. “That’s good. It would probably still be too fresh for a mask.” He said it so matter-of-factly, and then turned to select a wetsuit to hand to Zuko. “You can try that in the bathroom. Leave your shirt and whatever you’ve got under your pants on.” He shoved the suit at Zuko, and then tossed a mask from a peg off the wall at him. “Try those on first.” He pulled the wetsuit back from Zuko.

Feeling about four steps behind, Zuko relinquished the suit and slid the mask gingerly over his head. He could feel panic rising up in his chest at the feel of the plasticy material against his cheek, against the skin above his ear. The mask needed tightened, but Zuko was primarily focused on not passing out in the middle of shop. He stood frozen, both arms in the air holding the mask in place.

Hakoda stood silently, watching with no judgment in his eyes. When Zuko finally adjusted the straps and dropped his hands, the older man nodded once. “How’s it feel?”

Zuko opened his mouth but no sound came out. He tried again. “It’s…okay.” He didn’t have the words to describe the sensation making his head swim.

Hakoda motioned to take the mask off, which Zuko did gratefully. “It’s not a bad idea to try everything on at home once or twice before coming in for the pool classes.” They wandered around the shop, Hakoda pointing out recommendations for rentals and occasionally gathering small equipment for purchase. They returned all of the equipment to the counter, and Hakoda directed Zuko to the little bathroom in the back corner of the shop.

Zuko stripped down to his boxers and slid into the wet suit. Hakoda had given him so tips about how it should feel, and encouraged him to move around a little. Zuko felt silly but started doing half squats anyway. He forced himself to look in the mirror. He was having an okay day. He slipped out of the suit and redressed quickly.

There was a young man around Zuko’s age standing at the counter next to Hakoda, gesticulating wildly. His hair was pulled into a wolftail with the sides shaved severely. “Awe c’mon Dad! You said Katara would get the smaller classes this round.”

“Change of plans.”

“But—” As his son tried to argue, Hakoda tipped his head slightly skyward and toward the left. To the picture of a much younger Hakoda and the woman, as if he was asking her for patience. “Sokka, please, not in front of customers.”

Zuko half raised a hand to wave as the attention shifted to him. “Uh, hey.”

“What’s up, man!” All of Sokka’s previous surliness had been replaced with enthusiasm that couldn’t be faked. He shook Zuko’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder, taking the wetsuit and tossing it onto Zuko’s rather large pile of equipment. “I’m Sokka. I’m guessing you’re my new Wednesday student?”

“That’s right. I’m Zuko.” 

“So what brought you in? Why scuba diving? Have you lived in Republic City long?”

“Sokka! Let the man finish his business, you’ll have plenty of time for introductions during class. Go set up for the next batch of swim lessons.” Hakoda shot Zuko a wry glance out of the corner of his eye, shooing Sokka away from the counter.

“Okay, okay, fine! Nice to meet you Zuko, see you in a couple weeks. Man, I hate when Katara has all the weekend dives,” he added under his breath as he walked away.

“He’s got a lot of energy,” Hakoda said, unnecessarily. “But I can’t really complain. This place is my little retirement gig, and the kids help out as much as they can around their work schedules.” He set a very large canvas bag with the Kya Diving School logo emblazoned on it in front of Zuko and began stuffing it full of the equipment that Zuko was purchasing.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you’ve got any questions about anything. We’re happy to have you on board, Zuko.” Hakoda reached out to shake hands. He had been reassuring the family that had wandered in that he would be right with them for a few minutes, and hurried to introduce himself as Zuko gathered up his things.

Zuko left the shop feeling the best he had since the incident. 

————————————————————

After the third week of classes, Sokka flagged Zuko down. “Hey man, I was going to hit the tail end of happy hour and trivia over at Kyoshi’s with some friends. Wanna come along?”

Zuko’s first response was to be startled. Sokka reminded him in a lot of ways of an affable labrador retriever: goofy and full of energy, but capable of a calm seriousness when the situation called for it. Zuko was chronically early for lessons, watching the end of the after school swim lessons that Sokka taught on Wednesdays. The children gave Zuko anxiety from all the way up in the shop but Sokka managed to keep them entertained and safe at the same time. He seemed to have his shit together. Zuko couldn’t fathom why Sokka would want someone like him invited along to a social gathering.

Seeing his hesitation, Sokka threw his hands up. “No worries if you’re busy or whatever. A few of my friends are newer to Republic City and we’re always looking for new members of the gang.”

Meeting new people had been low on the list of Zuko’s favorite things even before the scar. Now it was near the bottom, just above actually having to talk about the scar. Would all of Sokka’s friends be as loud and strange as he was? He wasn’t sure that he could handle that. “I dunno, I’m all…chloriney.” He waved a hand at himself vaguely. The excuse sounded paper-thin to his own ears.

Sokka chuckled and redid his wolftail. “So am I! They’re used to it by now. If you hate it you can leave, but I bet they’ll like you.”

Zuko wondered if Uncle had somehow tracked Sokka down and forced him to try to get Zuko to socialize. He sighed. “Alright let me change.” Although he’d started to gain a lot of the weight he’d lost back, he still felt skinny and disproportionate in the tank top he usually tossed on after lessons. _Maybe I’ll start going back to the gym._ Uncle would definitely like that. The black tee and jeans he’d worn for lunch would serve as an additional layer of armor for the evening.

“You know where you’re going?” Sokka waited for him out in the shop, turning off the lights and locking the door to the pool behind him. 

“Generally.”

“You can follow me if you’d like. It’s only a few minutes away.”

Zuko took him up on the offer and immediately regretted it. Sokka was a terrible lead driver, changing lanes at the last second and buzzing through yellow lights that forced Zuko to run the red. Thankfully he hadn’t lied about the distance.

“Remind me never to follow you ever again,” Zuko greeted him in the parking lot.

Sokka cackled. “You get used to it. Okay so here’s the lowdown. Aang is bald and has lots of weird tattoos but he doesn’t really mind stares so feel free to take it all in. He’s like a monk or something, we don’t really know at this point but he’s cool.” He was talking a mile a minute and Zuko felt the anxiety that lumbered in the pit of his stomach begin to stir and stretch.

“Toph’s the little one. She’s blind, but spooky perceptive and swears worse than my dad, who was an actual sailor. Suki is the smokin’ hot redhead who looks like she’ll kick your ass.” Sokka paused to smile wolfishly at Zuko. “She is for sure capable of kicking your ass. Also, she’s my girlfriend so don’t get any ideas.” He held the door to the bar open and led Zuko inside.

There was a man on a stage rambling in front of a projector screen currently displaying a question about last year’s collegiate volleyball championship. Zuko hoped the categories would shift into something he was more familiar with or the evening would be even rougher than he was expecting.

“Oh! And my little sister Katara is here.” 

Zuko was immediately jealous of Sokka for having a normal, functional relationship with his sister. He allowed those thoughts to go up in smoke and focused on the table they were approaching. 

“Sokka!” The bald one called and waved enthusiastically. Zuko had already forgotten all of the names that Sokka had given him, but not the warning about the weird tattoos. The guy looked a few years younger than Zuko, with huge gray eyes and blue lines covering his head and all of the exposed skin on his arms. His beard was in need of a trim.

“Hey guys! This is my pal Zuko, I figured I’d bring him along.” Sokka motioned to Zuko, and slapped a hand on his shoulder to pull him up to the table.

This was Zuko’s nightmare. He’d seen the bald kid’s eyes widen and could feel them settle on the scar like a physical weight. The rest did their best effort to not look in a way that was so obvious it was almost worse. At least the blind girl couldn’t see it. 

He felt his hand lifting to do that little half wave thing that always made him feel mortified. It was too late to stop it. Everything was getting worse. “Hello, nice to meet you all.”

Sokka pulled him down into the seat next to him. The booth was a half circle that opened so that the stage could be seen from nearly every spot. It did not escape Zuko that it was the blind girl who sat with her back to the screen. Zuko’s spot on the opposite end of the booth meant that the left side of his face was facing the majority of the group, but he couldn’t blame Sokka for not thinking of that. He twisted subtly to make it feel more natural to turn his face to hide the scar.

Sokka’s girlfriend leaned across him and shoved her hand at Zuko. She squeezed much harder than necessary. “I’m Suki. Sorry you had the misfortune of meeting Sokka before any of the rest of us.” That got a snort from more than one person at the table and a huff from Sokka. She leaned into his shoulder, jostling them both. Zuko attempted a smile. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Aang,” the bald guy said, waving again. “Help yourself to some chips. The queso is vegan.”

Sokka scoffed and pointed to a different bowl. “There’s also non-vegan queso is you prefer your cheese to taste like cheese.”

Sokka’s sister rolled her eyes, blue like her brother and father. Her hair was pulled into a braid that fell around her shoulder when she leaned across the table to shake Zuko’s hand. “They will get into at least one argument about meat products tonight so it’s best to start tuning it out now. I’m Katara.”

“That’s Dr. Katara to you, Hotpants.” It was the blind girl, her milky green gaze unnervingly close to meeting Zuko’s.

He choked. “I’m sorry?” “I’m not a doctor,” Katara added at the same time. The rest of the group laughed loudly. 

“You,” the blind girl said, pointing a finger across the table at Zuko, “have a strong walk and a nice voice. I’m going to assume you’re good looking, thus, Hotpants. Also, you are a doctor.” The last bit was accompanied with a nudge into Katara’s arm.

Zuko felt like he was drowning. He was not an idiot. He was tall and had nice bone structure and golden eyes. He had been good looking. Those days were in the past. “Toph,” Katara whispered. “You can’t just say things like that.” The laughter had dropped off, and the table was as quiet as it could be in the middle of trivia night at a bar. Everyone was avoiding looking directly at Zuko.

“But you ARE a doctor. Do you or do you not have a PhD?”

“You know I do.” Katara growled and then sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Whatever,” Toph tossed her head but the strands of hair hanging in her eyes fell right back into place. “Toph Beifong. Before you get too excited, yes, those Beifongs.” 

Zuko was shocked out of his spiral. He had actually met Toph’s father once, in his old life. Ultra-wealthy people tended to hover in the same circles, and Zuko had been dragged to many events catered for their eyes only. He wracked his brain for any mention of a daughter, but was coming up blank. “I’ve met your father.”

He hadn’t meant to say it, and regretted it immediately. Sokka’s mouth dropped open a little. Toph’s eyes widened for half a second before narrowing violently. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “Why.”

It wasn’t the question Zuko had expected and he had to think. The truth was usually best. “A regrettable circumstance of birth.”

Toph snorted and raised her glass. “Well, I’ll sure as hell drink to that.” The rest of the table released a breath as one. Katara gently clinked her glass off of Toph’s, who proceeded to down the entire thing. 

Impeccable timing brought the waitress to the table the moment that Toph slammed her empty glass down. The girl winced slightly at the sound, but put on her best smile. “Can I get you two anything? And any refills?” She stacked the empties on top of an already impressive tower and moved on, their orders kept in her head.

“So Zuko,” Aang started before being interrupted by Suki yelling “Unagi!!” 

“Gesundheit,” Toph muttered. Suki smiled sheepishly and gestured towards the screen, still displaying trivia questions. “Sorry, the topic is mythical creatures and I’m from Kyoshi Island.”

Katara perked up and twisted to see the screen better. “We should get in on the next game now that everyone’s here!” She leveled a smile at Zuko to include him in the ‘everyone’ and his stomach settled a bit. “Any random trivia categories you can help us carry, Zuko?”

He made a thoughtful noise and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe, I know a lot of useless facts.” 

“Top three categories, go!” Sokka nudged him.

“Uhm, Fire Nation history, music and…” he winced and felt a flush running up the back of his neck but forced the last bit out, “theater?”

“Where in the Fire Nation are you from?” “What’s your favorite play?” “Do you play any instruments?”

The questions flew in from all sides and Zuko was saved to think by the arrival of their drinks. He took a long, long sip before answering. “Caldera City, Love Amongst the Dragons, and yes, 3.”

“I don’t know which part of that I want to ask more questions about most.” It was Sokka again, who looked vaguely shocked.

Zuko leaned back and crossed his arms. “Did you not think I had hobbies?” Talking was making him feel good, almost like his old self. He raised his eyebrows. It was still a shadow of his old favorite expression, but he’d gained a bit more movement as he had healed. He pushed away the thought with surprising ease.

Sokka put up his hands. “No, no, man. I just wouldn’t peg you for a theater guy.”

“Yeahhh,” Aang said. “And I’d bet you play the drums or guitar or something loud.” He looked in Toph’s direction and smiled softly. “For reference Toph, Zuko is wearing a leather jacket and has edgy hair.” Zuko reached up to touch his hair self consciously, which made Suki giggle.

“He also rides a motorcycle,” Sokka added helpfully.

“I do play the guitar, but not very well.” Zuko listened mostly to punk music and had briefly entertained the dream of being in a band during his teen years. “I’m better with the tsungi horn or piano.” He’d been frustrated to find that although his fingers could handle scales on the piano with little effort, they were clumsy on guitar strings and he’d given up one dream.

Zuko felt slightly off balance, as if he’d stood up too quickly. He was talking more than he had in months, and actually sharing information about himself. Uncle would be thrilled.

Katara looked like she was going to ask a question but was interrupted by the guy on stage yelling louder into his microphone about starting a new game. “Oh! Do you guys want to play?” She reached for the little game panel at the head of the table and slid it towards her. 

They made a surprisingly good team. Suki knew all the sports questions, Sokka the pop culture, Aang about animals and random nature questions, and Toph handled the music with shocking ease. Zuko and Katara seemed responsible for the miscellaneous random knowledge questions. They got into an argument about geography and both ended up being wrong. Zuko laughed at her expression—slightly guilty and embarrassed, but not enough to back down completely. He hadn’t laughed in months. 

“Alright, final category for the night. This one’s for all the marbles, folks.” The announcer paused dramatically and then waved an arm at the screen. “Space!”

Katara whooped, and beamed at her brother. Sokka groaned and slid down in his chair, muttering. “So many space documentaries,” he said, shaking a fist at the ceiling. “So much valuable TV time, lost.”

“Which planet in the solar system has the most moons?”

“Oh!” Aang said happily. “That one’s easy. Jupiter!”

Zuko frowned. “It’s Saturn, actually.” Katara had been shaking her head but stopped to smile widely at Zuko. 

“I definitely thought it was Jupiter too,” Suki said.

“They discovered a bunch of new moons orbiting Saturn like six months ago.” Zuko hadn’t thought it was possible, but Katara managed to smile even bigger at him. 

“Zuko’s right.” She clicked the answer on the tablet and fixed Zuko with a look, her head tilting ever so slightly. “You know space stuff too?”

The force of her attention made Zuko want to squirm. But something about her genuine curiosity and the way she looked right at him, despite the scar, made him stay put. He shrugged. “Maybe I would swap space with theater in my three categories. I thought about going to school for physics for a while.” He’d actually completed all of his freshman classes before Ozai found out about his choice of major and another dream died. Zuko briefly wondered what Katara’s PhD was in, but the rest of the round called for his attention.

“What’s the second most abundant element in the universe?”

“Helium,” Katara and Zuko answered together. 

“Don’t we have a helium shortage cause people keeping buying balloons?” 

Katara winced. “It’s not because of balloons, Toph. But yes, there’s a shortage.”

“Then how’s it the second most abundant element in the whole universe.”

Sokka groaned. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to.” Katara shot him a glare and turned her attention to Toph. “Stars convert hydrogen—the most abundant element—into helium through nuclear fusion. That’s what creates the heat and—”

“Alright, alright Sugar Queen, sorry I asked.” Katara deflated a bit. 

“I think that all sounds really interesting, Katara!” Aang smiled at her. Zuko realized he was younger than the first impression, under the beard. Katara smiled a little and muttered a thank you. 

Katara and Zuko easily answered the remaining questions and helped push the team to first place for the game, winning them a gift card that was promptly consumed to pay for the evening’s drinks. Toph tried to hide a yawn behind her hand but was easily caught. “Ready for bed, Toph?” Katara teased. She looked across the table to Sokka, who was whispering something in Suki’s ear to make her laugh, and then to Aang. “Aang, could you drop Toph off at home for me? I’ve got an early morning.”

“Of course!”

They paid their bills and gathered their things and moved to the door. Aang hooked his arm through Toph’s, which seemed unnecessary once she started waving her cane and yelling for everyone to move out of her way. 

Zuko grabbed the door to hold for Katara, Sokka, and Suki. Sokka clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming along buddy, hopefully we didn’t scare you off too badly.”

“Not at all,” Zuko was surprised to find that it wasn’t a lie. He’d successfully socialized with peers for over an hour. He couldn’t wait to tell Uncle. “Thanks for the invite.”

“We’re here every week, and you’re more than welcome to join any time!” Suki poked her head around Sokka’s arm. “You’re a good addition to the trivia team.”

“I’ll see you Saturday!” He offered his fist to Zuko, and then Katara, before wrapping an arm around Suki’s shoulders like a guy in an old teen movie. “My place or yours, babe?” Suki’s answer was lost to the growing distance.

“Sokka, we have a dive on Saturday!” Katara called after him, seemingly concerned he’d forgotten plans.

“Oh, yeah, I’m taking lessons at your dad’s shop. That’s where I’ll see him Saturday.”

Katara brightened again. “Oh! That’s awesome, what brought you into the shop? How are you liking classes so far?” She snapped her mouth shut and looked around, realizing they were standing two steps off the sidewalk outside of Kyoshi’s. “Sorry, I love talking to people about the dive lessons. It’s late, you don’t have to answer that. And I’ll be there Saturday too so I can just ask you then.” A hint of color flushed her cheeks.

“That’s okay, I’m really liking everything so far. Sokka is a good teacher.”

Katara laughed. “It was a surprise to us all to find that out. I’m glad to hear it. I’ll see you Saturday then. It was really nice to meet you, Zuko.” 

“It was good to meet you too, Katara. See you Saturday.” She wandered across the parking lot, waving to him before opening the door to her car. Zuko slid his phone out of his pocket before unlocking his helmet and sent a text to Uncle. _I made some new friends tonight._ He went home and looked in the mirror while he brushed his teeth after his shower, and felt lighter than he had in months.


	2. Polar Opposites Don't Push Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like everything I write, this got out of hand, so I hope the +18,000 words make up for the delay in posting.

Zuko groaned when his alarm went off Saturday morning. Friday had been a bad day—he’d pushed himself too much on Thursday after waking up and still feeling good from the night before. He hit snooze on his phone and stared up at the ceiling, trying to settle the churning in his stomach. The other six people in his scuba class had gotten used to him and stopped staring, even though the little boy had once asked how he’d gotten hurt and nearly made Zuko throw up. He wasn’t sure how many people would be on this trip, which filled him with anxiety.

The alarm went off two more times before Zuko was able to shove away the weight tying him to the mattress and drag himself into the bathroom. It was still early, and the door to Iroh’s room was shut. He splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth, tentatively meeting his gaze in the mirror. He was okay. Better than yesterday. Something close to excitement was starting to fight for real estate in his stomach.

He gathered all of his supplies in the giant canvas bag Hakoda had given him the first day in the shop and was leaning up against the kitchen island trying to chug his coffee before Uncle caught him drinking it when a cheery “Good morning, Nephew!” greeted him. Zuko tried to hide the coffee cup sheepishly and caught Uncle smirking at his attempts.

“Good morning, Uncle. Could I borrow your car today? It would be easier to transport all of the stuff for my dive.”

Uncle had started to heat up water for his morning tea and eased into a chair across from Zuko. “Of course! You said both Sokka and his sister would be there today?” Uncle had been thrilled to hear about Zuko’s adventure to trivia night and asked a ton of questions about his new acquaintances that Zuko didn’t know them well enough to answer. Hell, he didn’t even know what Sokka did outside of teaching kids how to swim in the evenings.

“Yeah, that’s what they said.” When Uncle opened his mouth, a twinkle in his eye, Zuko cut him off with a sigh. “Yes, Uncle, I will try to find out some info for you.”

Uncle chuckled. “It’s not for me, Zuko. An opportunity for new friendships should not be passed up.”

Zuko rolled his eyes half heartedly, but could admit that Uncle had a point. He’d _liked_ spending time with Sokka and his friends , once they’d gotten over the awkward avoidance of his scar. He _wanted_ to hang out with them again. It was an unusual feeling, and not just in Zuko’s new life.

Zuko tossed his bag into the back seat and then threw himself into the driver’s seat of Iroh’s car. It had been a long time since Uncle had anything to do with the family business and most of his income came from running The Jasmine Dragon, but Iroh still liked to indulge in little luxuries. The car—a beautifully restored convertible sports car—was his pride and joy, behind Zuko of course. The first time Iroh had allowed him to drive it as a teenager was one of Zuko’s happiest memories from high school, and some of that old joy sparked in his chest as he pulled out of the garage, his hair long enough to tangle up in the breeze with the top down.

When he pulled into the parking lot, Zuko was twenty-five minutes earlier than the time Sokka had instructed the class to arrive. Two large white vans were parked side by side in front of the shop doors, which were propped open. The back doors of one of the vans was open as well.

Zuko eased himself out of the driver’s seat just as Hakoda appeared in the doorway, his arms full of equipment Zuko vaguely recognized. He deposited everything in the back of the van and waved a hand to Zuko, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “Nice ride!”

Zuko shrugged a little sheepishly, reaching out to shake Hakoda’s hand when he got closer. “It’s my uncle’s, I’m just borrowing it.” He paused, cursing his inability to arrive even close to on time for anything. “ Can I help with anything?”

Hakoda turned back toward the shop, waving an arm for Zuko to follow. “I won’t complain about an extra hand.”

Inside, there were air tanks, masks, fins, and other equipment lined up neatly against the back wall. Zuko started grabbing things at Hakoda’s direction and started shuttling equipment out to the vans. “Sokka isn’t here to help?”

“No, he’s actually already down at the dock getting things ready there. He’s not exactly a morning person and lives much closer to the bay than the shop. It’s easier that way. My daughter and I will be driving the vans.”

As if he had summoned her, Katara breezed in through the door. “Sorry I’m late, Dad!”

Zuko had been too preoccupied at trivia, worrying about how everything could go totally wrong, to really _notice_ Katara beyond the fact that she was very friendly and very smart. Today, under the bright lights of the shop, Zuko noticed. She was in a simple blue tank top and black shorts that showed off legs that made Zuko’s heart beat a little faster.

Her footsteps faltered a little, but she recovered easily. “Oh, hey Zuko! I didn’t see your bike outside.”

“Oh, I borrowed my uncle’s car for the day.” He felt incredibly awkward and didn’t know what else to say to her. Hakoda saved the day.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He wrapped Katara into a one-armed side hug. “How do you know Zuko?”

“Sokka brought him to trivia on Wednesday after their class.” She turned slightly away from her father to smile at Zuko. His heart kept beating too fast. “He was a good addition to the team.”

“I’m full of useless information.”

“It’s only useless until it’s not,” Hakoda and Katara said at the same time, which made them look at each other and laugh. Even though Sokka wasn’t there, Zuko could easily see the comfortable, warm dynamic that existed between Hakoda and his children. His heart ached briefly.

“My uncle would like that one.” Hakoda nodded sagely, and Zuko was hit by a sudden realization that Uncle would probably like Hakoda in general.

Katara easily lifted an air tank in each hand and Zuko made every effort not to stare as he followed her out to the vans. “You’re here early.”

Zuko dropped his items and scrubbed at the back of his neck, ducking his head slightly. “I’m chronically early for everything. It’s honestly a huge inconvenience.”

Katara laughed. “Have you tried just…not being early?”

He smirked at her. “Every day. No luck. It’s a curse I’ve yet to break.”

She huffed another laugh and they finished loading all of the equipment in comfortable silence. The family of four in Zuko’s class showed up not long after, as well as a young couple that exchanged friendly hellos with Katara. Hakoda tossed everyone bottles of water as they arrived, bustling around the shop talking to each group. Zuko kept mostly to himself, though he did nod at one of the men in his class.

Hakoda called for everyone to pile into the vans, and Zuko hesitated, unsure of which one to claim. Sokka’s section only had seven people, but Katara’s had twelve, which meant they wouldn’t be able to split the vans by instructor. Just as he moved to follow the family in his section, Katara brushed by him. “Sit up front with me.”

Dazed, Zuko followed her and hopped into the passenger side of one of the vans. He settled in as Katara turned to introduce herself to the middle-aged couple from Zuko’s class. All of the other passengers were her students. Some quick math confirmed to Zuko that there were enough seats in the back of both vans that no one would have needed to sit up front. A quick glance to his right revealed Hakoda alone, the passenger seat empty.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, falling in behind Hakoda’s van, Katara introduced herself to the members of Sokka’s class who had found themselves in her van. She maintained polite conversation for a few minutes until allowing the van to settle into a comfortable equilibrium. Zuko immediately envied how effortlessly she managed the—well, not room exactly, but still. Even Before, he’d had to use conscious effort to achieve even a fraction of Katara’s grace.

“So, _Dr._ Katara. What exactly do you use your PhD for?”

Katara winced, shooting him an embarrassed smile. “Ugh, I’m sorry for Toph. She’s…a handful.” When Zuko waved away her concern, she continued, her smile turning more genuine. “I’m an oceanographer. Can’t keep me away from the water.”

“I…don’t think I know what that is.”

Katara laughed, but Zuko got the sense that it wasn’t at his ignorance. “You actually probably do but don’t even realize it. Marine biologists are essentially oceanographers with a focus in biology. It’s not quite the same, but enough for you to get the idea.” Katara waved her hand while she talked. “Oceanographers study the ocean, the same way geologists study land masses. I’m a chemical oceanographer, which just means my specialty is different chemical pathways in the ocean.” 

The explanation had a rehearsed quality to it, and Zuko suspected that she had been explained her profession many times. “Wow.” He scrambled to expand, but his brain was trying to catch up. “So your PhD is in Oceanography? I didn’t even know that was a major.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty specialized field. I went to Northern for undergrad and grad school. There’s programs here at URC and also at Ember Island Tech, but Northern’s program is world renowned.”

“What made you pick it?”

Katara shrugged lightly. “I’ve always been around the water. It’s where I’m happiest. So I’ve kind of always known I’d want a career working on the water in some way. It’s an incredibly multi-disciplinary field. I had to take courses in biology, chemistry, physics, _and_ geology just for the BS. But I’ve always loved science, and a challenge.”

Zuko could tell that Katara loved her job. Her passion was shining through the more she talked about it, and he found himself wanting to listen to her for hours. “What exactly do you do every day?” He was genuinely curious, but a wave of embarrassment rushed over him. “Sorry for being ignorant. It sounds fascinating.”

“No worries! My main focus of study is on uptake of carbon dioxide in the oceans and overall CO2 pathways. The oceans play a huge part in offsetting atmospheric carbon dioxide levels and put us in a better place climate change wise than we would be without them. But at the same time, the elevated levels can have negative effects on the natural chemistry of the ocean. Plus there’s issues of overall warmer water temperatures and the introduction of chemicals through pollution to deal with.” She sighed heavily. “I split my time between a research lab and out on a boat collecting samples. It’s honestly a lot of data analysis more than anything, but I love my job. Some days I really feel like the work I’m doing is making a difference, and other days I want to go blow up power plants dumping waste into the ocean because that feels more helpful.”

Zuko huffed a laugh at the seriousness of her tone. “That’s incredible.” A tiny voice in his head suggested, _You’re incredible_. Katara was a very animated talker, her hands moving almost constantly, sometimes both at the same time despite the fact that she was driving. The sun was shining through the driver’s side of the windshield, making the loose hairs around the crown of her head glow. When she turned her head to look at him, the light washed the blue of her eyes out to nearly silver. “I’m always down for some vigilante justice, so count me in if you need backup destroying anything.”

Katara laughed. It was different than any of the other laughs she had released in his presence, more open and light, and it made his heart squeeze again. Zuko knew that he would be chasing that laugh every time he was in her company. She opened her mouth but paused and turned her head toward the back of the van. “We’ll be at the dock in two minutes, everyone! When we get there bring everything you’ve got with you, and everyone will grab an air tank from the back. We’ll get the rest of the equipment together and distribute it on the boat as needed.”

She refocused her attention to Zuko. “Have you ever been out on the bay before?”

That question opened the door to potentially sharing personal information. Although part of his brain wanted to tell Katara anything and everything she wanted to know, the larger part wasn’t ready. It was barely ready for the level of conversation they had already had. “This’ll be my first time. Do you even bother counting anymore?”

Another smile was shot toward Zuko. Katara seemed to be a happy person. She wasn’t bubbly like Ty Lee but something about their attitudes struck Zuko as similar. Even Before, he hadn’t been an extremely smiley person. “Oh, I stopped counting ages ago. It’s got to be more than a hundred.”

Hakoda’s van ahead of them flipped on a turn signal and dipped off of the main road. Katara followed suit, and the van jostled across the less maintained road aggressively. Katara was forced to stop talking with her hands and grumbled under her breath about what she was paying taxes for anyway.

As they pulled into a small lot a couple hundred feet from the marina entrance, Zuko realized that he’d spent the entire car ride with the left side of his face closer to Katara. She hadn’t stared or avoided looking at him—both equally frequent reactions, ironically—and hadn’t mentioned it at all. He felt particularly light as he jumped out of the van, waving to a very excited looking Sokka who was hovering nearby.

The vans were unloaded much faster than they had been loaded. They all piled onto the boat, an small-ish, older model catamaran that had plenty of room for everyone to spread out. Zuko tucked himself on a bench near the bow, enjoying the sun and sea breeze on his face.

Hakoda, Sokka, and Katara moved efficiently around the vessel, undoing knots and coiling ropes, calling back and forth to one another. They were soon moving away from the dock and out into the bay. According to Hakoda’s announcement, it would be a quick 15 minute trip to the reef they would be diving.

Sokka came up to Zuko after they got moving, slapping a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Hey buddy, how’s it going this morning?”

Zuko managed a small smile. He had always loved family trips to the beach, and had fond memories of Lu Ten teaching him to water ski off the back of Uncle’s boat as a child. “I’m good. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being on a boat until we got going.”

Sokka beamed. “Stay hanging out around Katara and I and you’ll never miss it again, if we can help it.” Zuko was struck again by a strange sense of contentment and an overwhelming gratitude that Sokka seemed to want to be his friend. “Anyway, I need to check in with everyone to make sure they’ve got the equipment they need and are all ready to go.”

They reviewed everything once more, and then Sokka moved away to talk to his other students. All around him, people were starting to suit up with varying levels of success—every time the catamaran crested a wave, someone stumbled slightly as they tried to wiggle into their wetsuit.

Zuko pulled his own wetsuit out of his bag and slid his legs in. He cast a surreptitious glance around for Katara before peeling his shirt off. He had his torso covered again by the suit in a flash. He still felt out of sorts in his body, scrawny and pale, especially compared to Sokka, who was strutting around in just a pair of tight dive shorts.

The boat began to slow it’s journey, settling down amongst the gentle waves making their way into the bay. They were a few hundred feet off the jut of land the served as the bay’s southern border, and Zuko could see the beginnings of reef below them. His attention was called to where Sokka waved his arms and clambered up onto one of the benches.

“Alright,” Sokka began, his voice carrying easily across the group. “We’ll be going down about 30 feet. Do not touch the coral. Do not kick the coral. Do not give the coral the stink eye. Feel free to wander a bit, but don’t go too far from the boat. Katara and I will be keeping an eye on everything, and if there’s an issue signal us like this.” He demonstrated a simple arm motion.

But Zuko was distracted by Katara dropping onto the bench next to him. He had been studiously avoiding trying to seek her out for the journey over, and now that she had appeared he was proud of his efforts. Her wetsuit was pulled up to her waist, but her torso and arms hadn’t been covered yet. Zuko allowed himself one second to trail his eyes over her, taking in the way her dark skin contrasted with her white bikini top. He closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them and forcing them to Katara’s own.

“When you get in the water,” she said while pulling the rash guard over her head—blessedly covering some of the expanse of skin Zuko desperately wanted to reach out to touch. “Keep the boat to your back, and head for the left side of the reef. It’s my favorite part.” She slid her arms into the wetsuit and zipped herself up, tugging her braid out.

“Thanks.” Zuko felt the same wave of being overwhelmed as he had in the van, listening to Katara talk about her job. He couldn’t understand why she had sought him out to share tips about the dive, or to pass the time on the trip from the shop. Despite the confusion, he found that he didn’t want to press his luck or argue with it.

When he got down into the water and followed Katara’s instructions to head toward the left side of the reef, Zuko felt like he could breathe for the first time in months. He could ignore the feel of the mask against the skin of his scar and the sound of his own breathing and instead focused on the feel of his body surrounded by the ocean and the sight of the reef, teeming with life.

When Sokka dragged him toward Hakoda’s van on the way back, he couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed to not be sitting next to Katara again. Her smile when he offered to stay to help unload the vans was worth it, as was the quick hug she wrapped him in before he slid back into Uncle’s car to head home.  
________________________  
For the first time in the weeks he’d been attending trivia, Zuko was the last person to arrive. He had passed his certification dive two weeks earlier, and was relieved that the invitation wasn’t revoked now that he and Sokka weren’t forced to see each other every week.

Aang sighed in relief when he saw Zuko coming. “We were worried, you’re never late.” The others nodded in agreement and warmth filled Zuko’s chest. He smiled. “Sorry for causing panic.”

Sokka patted the space next to him and slid Zuko a glass of what he figured was his usual order. His eyebrows furrowed slightly when Zuko remained hovering next the table. He had made himself late panicking over the conversation he was about to have.

Zuko’s eyes flitted across the group and he straightened his shoulders. He’d told Dr. How that he would try to have this conversation with his friends, had believed him when he told Zuko that they would understand. “Actually, Katara, could we swap seats?”

Katara looked surprised, but nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to figure out his motivations for asking the question. “Hop up, Toph.” Toph grumbled as she caught an elbow, but stood. Katara threw another elbow into Aang, who winced and rubbed at his arm. “Slide down.”

Zuko moved past Toph and gently tugged her elbow once he’d sat. He settled lightly between Katara and Toph, who brushed her hand down his shoulder and arm to get a sense of his location. He leaned across the table and took a long sip of his beer, closing his eyes against the curious gazes turned on him. He realized that he’d never made any requests before in their company.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “It’s easier for me to see you guys from this angle.” He tried to ignore the sharp breath that Katara sucked in next to him and the guilty look that appeared on Aang’s face, and gently bumped shoulders with Toph. “And I figured Toph wouldn’t care if I didn’t look at her.”

“Oh Zuko…” Suki started, her hand clamped around Sokka’s arm. “We should have thought about it.”

“It’s okay, I’m still getting used to it too.” He could feel heat rushing to his face.

“Okay, someone is going to need to explain whatever is happening to me,” Toph said, voice tinged with annoyance. “Because clearly whatever is happening would be obvious if I could see.”

No one wanted to be the one to address the elephant that had been joining them for trivia for two months. Zuko took a breath. “I…was…burned in an…accident.” He cringed at the stuttering explanation. “Pretty much the whole left side of my face.”

“Shit.” Zuko couldn’t read all of the layers in that single word, but it somehow made him feel better. “Your eye?”

“Mostly saved, but I can’t open it all the way anymore.” He had to stop for another drink. He’d never talked about the scar so openly before. Panic was slumbering in his stomach, but he could handle it.

“Shit,” Toph repeated. “It’s bad?”

Zuko nodded, and then remembered who he was talking to. He swallowed and managed to choke out, “Very bad.”

“Could I…” her hand half lifted before the question finished and Zuko flinched away so violently that the impact with Katara knocked her glass out of her hand. Toph retreated as if he’d burned her and she shrunk away from him, apologizing under her breath.

“Fuck,” Zuko breathed, moving to give Katara space and trying to wipe up the beer she’d spilled. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry. I—”

Katara grabbed his arm, stopping his frantic attempts to mop up the table and cut him off. “It’s okay, Zuko.” She squeezed his arm softly, and pressed his shoulder so that he would lean back against the booth. “It’s okay.”

He realized that his hands were shaking, maybe his whole body. He closed his eyes and sucked in deep breaths, focusing on the warmth of Katara’s hand. He sensed Toph’s presence disappear from his other side, and heard Sokka whisper, “I’ve got her.”

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute.” He got his breathing back under control and opened his eyes, looking down at Katara. She hadn’t let go of his arm. “Thanks, Katara.”

She smiled softly and nodded, breaking contact. His skin felt cold where she’d held him but the warmth was replaced by a gentle press of her shoulder as she settled back against the booth next to him.

Sokka and Toph returned, Sokka looking worried and Toph looking strangely blank. He made sure Toph was settled back in her seat next to Zuko before taking his own. Zuko met Sokka’s eyes and released a breath when his first friend smiled at him. “Sorry, guys, I’m still adapting. This is the first time I’ve ever talked to someone who isn’t a medical professional about it.”

Toph made a soft sound from next to him, and Zuko twisted slightly to look over at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was new. Touch is the only way I can see things.” He’d never heard her sound so small, and Zuko’s heart broke a little. 

“I understand. I don’t know when I’ll be there, but when I’m ready I’ll let you know.” He smiled a little. Back when they were little and before everything had gone wrong, he’d been good at figuring out what to say to help cheer Azula up when she was in one of her moods. “You can touch the other side of my face if you want.”

Toph beamed, finally tilting her face up toward him, her gaze eerily close to his own as always. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks! Plus I was feeling extra guilty about calling you Hotpants when we first met until Sokka told me you’re still super good looking.”

Zuko coughed, Katara snorted, and Sokka turned bright red, glaring at Toph. “God, you’re a disaster,” Suki laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “But not wrong.” She waggled her eyebrows at Zuko, which made him cough more.

“Let’s get this over with so we can change the topic please,” he begged, avoiding eye contact with everyone. He leaned the good side of his face toward Toph and lifted her hand to rest on his cheek.

“Tell me where to stop.” He nodded, releasing a deep breath as she pressed her fingers lightly against the planes of his face. Her face was scrunched up in concentration. “I don’t know what colors are, but tell me anyway. What’s your hair?” She twirled a piece around a small finger.

“Black.”

“And your eyes?” She ever so gently traced from his forehead down the side of his nose and against the bones of his eye socket, brushing against his eyelashes when he closed his eyes.

Zuko never had a great answer to this question. His driver’s license said brown, because it was the most technically correct answer. “Very, very light brown.”

“They’re gold,” Sokka and Katara said at the same time. Suki cackled again and Aang ducked his head to hide his smile. The siblings glared at each other, clearly having a silent argument only possible because of years of practice.

“I guess they’re kind of gold,” Zuko grumbled, turning back when Toph’s hand dropped. “Now can we _please_ talk about something that isn’t me?”

Their waitress’s track record of impeccable timing continued, dropping refills and clearing empties. Zuko drained half of his in one go. 

Toph happily slotted back in to her normal energy. “Enough of your pity party, Hotpants. Let’s talk about the ridiculous elitist bullshit I’ve been putting up with this week.” She launched into a story about getting tricked into lunch with her parents, and Zuko recognized the strained relationship in her voice. “They’ve agreed to an addendum: marriage or 35.”

“That’s barbaric,” Katara spat. “You aren’t a piece of meat to be bargained with.” As the others murmured their agreement, Zuko’s brain whirled to try to fit all the context clues into a clear picture.

“Are your parents holding your trust fund hostage until you marry someone ‘eligible’?” At Toph’s surprised look he couldn’t help a smirk. “I’ve met your father, remember?” He hummed thoughtfully. “Actually in retrospect, I’m surprised he never mentioned you to me. You’re like 25, right? Still an acceptable option.”

“Is your trust fund being held hostage too? Maybe we can make a deal.” She might not know who he actually was, but Toph knew just as well as Zuko did that their parents ran in very select circles. She rubbed her hands together like a villain in a movie.

Zuko laughed, tinged with bitterness this time. “My father probably burned the bank to the ground to make sure I don’t ever see a penny of that money. I’m afraid your parents probably wouldn’t approve of a disowned, disfigured ex-executive who works in a tea shop.”

There was a beat of silence. “I swear to La, Zuko, you say something more shocking every week.” Sokka was gaping at him as if he’d started breathing fire. “You work in a _tea shop_? You? With your motorcycle and edgy hair?”

Zuko’s fingers twitched to touch his hair, and Suki’s gaze lasered in on the motion. He glared at her and she stuck out her tongue. “Yeah, my uncle owns The Jasmine Dragon over in Mid-City. You guys should come by this weekend. Uncle will give you a bunch of free food and be generally embarrassing.” He felt heat rush to the back of his neck and reached up to try to rub it away. “I mean, only if you wanted to.”

“I’ve got some stuff going on Saturday,” Aang said with a small smile, “but I’d love to come on Sunday! I love finding new places.” Sokka agreed to pick Toph up Sunday morning, and the conversation meandered to the new game of trivia that was about to begin. The topics were more out of their wheelhouse than previous weeks, but they almost had more fun making absurd guesses.

Uncle was already in bed when he got home, but Zuko was excited to tell him that his friends would be coming to the shop on Sunday. Knowing Iroh, he would make a special tea blend for the occasion.

He was going to have so much to tell Dr. How on Tuesday.  
________________________

A little over an hour into his shift on Saturday morning, Zuko felt his phone vibrate aggressively. Three text messages, back to back to back. The only person who ever texted him was Sokka, usually with absurd memes. Slightly concerned, he slipped the phone out of his pocket and hid it behind the counter. It was a number he didn’t recognize.

_I’m sorry this is kind of last minute, but something came up for tomorrow and I wondered if I could come by the tea shop for lunch today instead?_

_If not, it’s totally okay, I understand!_

_Oh, btw, this is Katara. I asked Sokka for your number._

Zuko stared at the messages for a long moment before shaking himself. _Of course, you’re welcome any time._ He wanted to be embarrassed for sounding so eager, but he honestly appreciated Katara’s desire to change her plans just to show up at the shop. Plus he wanted to see her.

_Perfect! I’ll see you around 11:30_

Zuko checked his watch. It was close to 10 already. Panic swarmed. He hadn’t factored in that Katara would be coming alone when he agreed to it. Outside of their first conversation in the van on the way to his first dive, Zuko hadn’t spent any time alone with any of his new friends except for Sokka. He’d been counting on the group dynamic. Of all of them, Katara made Zuko feel the most uncomfortable. She was genuinely kind until one of her ideals was questioned, and then righteous anger would flood through her. She would snap at people who upset her, but was quick to soothe Toph or Aang if they were upset. She was brilliant and lovely and Zuko had a difficult time keeping his eyes off of her.

“Uncle!” He poked his head into the kitchen to warn Iroh about the change of plans. “Katara is coming by around lunch. She had something come up for tomorrow.”

Uncle smiled broadly. “Oh what a pleasant surprise! I cannot wait to meet her.”

Zuko spent the rest of the morning trying to tell himself to be cool and not awkward. The anxiety and the brunch rush helped the time pass quickly and before Zuko even thought to check the time he walked back from serving a group of middle aged women in the back room to see Katara hovering in the doorway, lifted up on her toes to look around. Uncle had spotted her as well and approached. 

All of Katara’s attention was on Uncle, allowing Zuko to get close enough to hear Uncle’s generic welcome. “I’m so glad you could join us. My name is Iroh. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Kuruk,” Katara shook Uncle’s hand, smiling brightly. The name scrambled around Zuko’s brain, trying to catch a thought. He couldn’t place it, and assumed he’d just heard Sokka or Katara say it before, though he wouldn’t have been able to answer if someone had asked him for their last name.

“Doctor Kuruk, actually, Uncle.” He reached them, smiling at Katara before looking back at his uncle. “This is Katara. Katara, this is my Uncle Iroh.”

She blushed lightly. “Oh, please, just Katara is fine. Doctor Kuruk makes me feel like an old lady.”

Uncle chuckled. “You’ve got a long way to go before then, my dear. I’ve heard so much about you and your brother and your friends from my nephew. He speaks very highly of all of you. Please, call me Uncle.”

Katara nodded, looking shy. Zuko had never seen her look anything less than completely confident and comfortable and was a bit shocked by the change. The expression was gone in an instant as she turned to Zuko, running her eyes up and down in a way that made him want to hide behind the counter. She smirked. “You know, Zuko, that apron is quite a look.”

Now it was Zuko’s turn to blush. Katara was in a simple sleeveless blue dress and complicated looking sandals with lots of straps. Her hair was loose, which he’d only seen once or twice. He’d paused to catch his breath when he first saw her. The dress showed off the delicate lines of her neck and collarbone, the strength in her arms and legs. She looked casually put together and pretty, and Zuko was wrapped in a brown apron with the Jasmine Dragon’s stylized logo proudly displayed on the chest. “We’re very fashion forward here at the Jasmine Dragon, as you can tell by my uncle’s shoes which were clearly purchased in the 70s.”

Everyone turned to look at Iroh’s favorite pair of white patent leather shoes, which had what could definitely be defined as a platform heel. Katara bit her lip to keep from giggling, which made Zuko smirk and peek at her out of the corner of his eye. Iroh huffed a laugh. “Leave your poor old uncle alone and find Katara a seat. Take your break after you bring me your orders.” He winked at Zuko and then turned to talk to the couple that had just entered.

“Where would you like to sit?”

Katara looked around, her eyes a bit wide. “I’m not sure. It’s different than I expected, somehow. Bigger, and…” she trailed off, shrugging at her lack of words. Zuko understood though. The shop was split into two distinct sections; one was a much more traditional coffee shop vibe with comfy chairs and tables pressed closely together. The back half of the shop could be reserved for more traditional tea serving experiences, or for parties, Zuko’s least favorite part of his job.

“Uncle believes tea should be accessible for everyone, not just stuffy people who want all the ceremony. I like it up here a lot more.” He waved a hand for her to follow, and led her to a corner that he’d been unofficially reserving since she’d texted. Zuko’s favorite armchair in the entire shop was tucked next to a window, and a group of Uncle’s weekly rotating flowers were next to the small tea table. There was a highly desirable outlet hidden directly behind the chair. He motioned for her to sit in the corner and dropped into the slightly less comfortable seat across from her, passing her the menu.

Katara snuggled herself into the seat with a happy sigh, scanning the menu quickly. She bit her lip and looked at him over the top of it before leaning forward conspiratorially, holding the menu to block her face from the rest of the shop. “Zuko,” she whispered, “don’t tell your uncle, but I’m more of a coffee person.”

Zuko laughed, earning him a small glare. “So am I! Tea is all just hot leaf juice. I have to wake up early every morning so I can sneak my coffee in without feeling guilty when Uncle catches me.”

She grinned. “Just order me something you think I’d like. And the grilled chicken mozzarella sandwich?”

“Coming right up. I’ve got to check a couple of my tables real quick but I’ll be back with the tea and food. My lunch break is in 15 minutes anyway so I can join you.” He dropped Katara’s order and his own lunch request at the kitchen and made his rounds, clearing dishes and refilling glasses. Some of the regulars smiled a bit brighter at him, looking toward where Katara sat, scrolling through her phone. “She’s just a friend, Madame Wu,” he had to insist twice when the old woman wouldn’t stop waggling her eyebrows at him and asking about her. She was an old friend of Uncle’s who came in multiple times a week and had probably never seen Zuko be more than bare minimum polite to a patron.

“Uncle! I’m going to take my break.”

Iroh appeared and nodded, surveying the tables that Zuko was responsible for to gauge when they might need him. “Excellent, Nephew. Take some blueberry tarts for you and Katara, they just came out of the oven. And don’t let her pay for anything, it’s on the house.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, not at all shocked by Uncle’s antics; he let people eat for free quite regularly. He popped into the kitchen to grab the tarts and Ping stopped him to pass him his and Katara’s food. He suspected Iroh had meddled and asked Ping to slide the order up in his queue but didn’t mind the special treatment. “Thanks, Ping.” 

He dropped the plates onto the table with a flourish, which made Katara laugh. “How’s the tea?” He’d picked a lavender ginseng blend that was a favorite of Uncle’s.

“It’s delicious, I’ve never had anything like it before.”

Zuko took a sip from his glass and nodded. “It’s one of Uncle’s own creations. He’s quite proud of it.”

Katara laughed. “He said he reserves it for special guests, but that’s just something he tells people, right?” She took a bite of her sandwich and hummed appreciatively.

“Although that is absolutely something he would do and it’s shocking you pegged him so well after one interaction, he was telling the truth this time. He takes tea very seriously, and even though he believes it’s for everyone, he can be picky about some of his creations. Says they’re a part of his soul so he has to be careful who he shares it with, which is incredibly dramatic.”

Katara hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve been wondering where you got it from, this explains things.” Her smile was a bit shy and she covered it by taking a bite of her sandwich.

Zuko was a little shocked. He was comfortable referring to the trivia gang as his friends but was still surprised to find himself at the ‘good natured teasing’ stage of friendship, especially with Katara. He tried to glare at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Suuuure, let’s go with that.” Katara reached across the small table to swipe a fry from Zuko’s plate, her own meal coming with chips instead. Zuko was too busy trying to grapple with the untethered feeling of the entire interaction to think of a witty response, but Katara didn’t seem to mind. “I can’t believe you work here.”

Zuko felt vaguely offended and raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” She looked a little sheepish. “I just mean, ugh.” She stopped, sucking in a breath and looking around the shop again. “Customer service jobs are terrible and you don’t give off the vibe of subscribing to the ‘the customer is always right’ mentality.”

Zuko smirked and allowed a huff of a laugh. “You’re correct. There are days when I really hate it here. People suck, but Uncle does a good job of steering me away from the worst of the customers.”

Katara’s face scrunched up, her mouth twisting to the side, a small wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. It was adorable, and Zuko barely caught the beginning half of her sentence, caught up in the sight of it. “So I’ve been feeling terrible about this for weeks. But I was also too embarrassed to say anything in front of everyone else. I realized after that first training dive that we only talked about me the whole way there and even though I blabbered on about my job for like twenty minutes I didn’t even know what you did until you mentioned it this week.”

Zuko didn’t want Katara to be upset, but he also wasn’t ready to admit that he’d manipulated that conversation at every opportunity to ensure the focus never shifted to him. “I didn’t even notice, so there’s no reason to be upset about it.”

Katara sighed softly, stealing another fry. Zuko took two chips in retaliation, which made her smile. “Well, I still feel bad. Have you always worked here?”

The urge to sigh was almost overwhelming. Zuko only managed to hold it back because he suspected it would hurt Katara’s feelings, which was an activity settling itself near ‘meeting new people’ at the bottom of his list of favorite things to do. _This is what friendship means. Talking about yourself to other people._ Logically, he knew that eventually he’d have to talk about some parts of his past—he’d already dug himself a small hole, talking about trust funds and Toph’s dad. He just wasn’t looking forward to it.

“No.” He hesitated, taking a bite of sandwich to try to mask some of the discomfort. “I started here with Uncle a little before I started taking dive lessons.” Another deep breath, because he knew Katara’s curiosity would lead to follow up questions. “This is a fresh start, I guess. I did my undergrad at The Royal University of the Fire Nation.” Even when he’d cared about things like status and other people’s opinions, he knew RU was pretentious.

Katara drew a surprised breath and interrupted in a burst, like she couldn’t help herself. “Impressive. What’d you study?”

“Economics.” He lifted his chin a little, the ego he’d thought long dead stoked by Katara’s tiny amount of praise. “And international relations.”

“Oh.”

Zuko wasn’t sure how to interpret that response, and shouldered on so that he didn’t start to spiral thinking about it. “I got my MBA from BSSU remotely while working. I managed customer accounts and ran projections from time to time.”

Katara had sunk back into her chair, small corner of sandwich and a few chips forgotten. “ _Oh_ ,” she said, more emphatically. Her eyes traveled over Zuko, who was starting to squirm at her response, and then around the tea shop once more. “You’re way overqualified for this job.”

Zuko laughed a little, trying to release the tension in his shoulders. “That’s a bit of an understatement.” Katara kept looking at him, running her eyes up and down his torso.

“I’m trying unsuccessfully to picture you in a suit.”

“What, is this apron not dashing enough for you?”

Katara paused, her eyes running up and down Zuko again. He sent a thankful prayer to the spirits that he’d decided to start going back to the gym. “It’s certainly something.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a darkness to her eyes that set Zuko’s spine tingling.

He got the sense that they were toeing the line between casual conversation and honest flirting, and he truly didn’t know how to handle it. “Do you wear a labcoat when you’re not out on a boat? I’m sure you look just as dashing.”

Her eyes went wide and for a moment Zuko worried that he’d overstepped and misread her comments. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, but then Katara smirked. “Maybe I’ll show you someday.”

Feeling like he’d transcended to another plane of success, Zuko allowed the conversation to veer toward safer topics. For the next half hour, he and Katara talked through the harmless waters of their hobbies, their preferred movie and music genres, their favorite foods. Every time he managed to make Katara laugh with a dry comment, Zuko’s heart soared. Every time she smirked and sent a playful dig his direction, it beat a bit faster.

Eventually, he looked down at his watch—an expensive gold piece that was one of his few relics from his previous life—and sighed a little. “I’m sorry, I need to get back.”

Katara nodded and stacked her plates on top of his. “No, I’m sorry for keeping you!”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. I’m sure Uncle will keep bringing you new blends to try because that’s one of the only ways he expresses affection.”

Katara laughed. Zuko decided that he would never get tired of hearing the sound, would never stop trying to prompt it. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I assure you, nothing would make him happier than you or the rest of the gang stopping by whenever you felt like it. He asks about you all every night after trivia.”

Katara paused, her head quirking to the side slightly. “Do you live with him?”

Embarrassment flooded Zuko’s entire system. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and he cursed his pale complexion knowing that Katara could see it. He wished that he had it in him to lie, but at the same time he felt that he owed her the truth. More than that, he _wanted_ to give her the truth. “I do. I moved in after…” he waved a hand at his face, because that was enough of an explanation, “It was what I needed to help get me back on my feet.”

Even that small amount of vulnerability was enough to make him squirm. The sympathy in Katara’s eyes wasn’t helping, and he dealt with the anxious energy by standing and gathering their plates. “Uncle insisted that your meal is on the house. Like I said, feel free to stay as long as you’d like, but don’t worry about a bill. I’ll stop by in a bit if you want to try anything else.”

He paused, feeling the need to say more. This lunch with Katara was the most he had ever felt like Before Zuko. “I’m glad you came by today, Katara. It was really good to spend some time with you.” _Spend some time with_ just _you_.

It seemed that Katara understood the words he hadn’t said. She reached out a hand and squeezed his arm gently, the actions still sending a wave of heat through him. “I’m glad I came too. I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Katara stayed for another half hour, scrolling through her phone and chatting animatedly with Uncle when he insisted on checking up on her and bringing her more tea. Zuko sensed her presence like a magnet the entire time she was in the shop and felt a strange sense of relief and disappointment when she packed up to head home for the day, calling out a soft goodbye as she walked out the door.

Sokka, Suki, Toph and Aang came by for lunch the following day and filled the shop with the chaotic energy Zuko was coming to associate with them. He struggled to keep up with the conversations but enjoyed himself anyway, basking in the simple glow of companionship.

Near the end of the lunch hour, Sokka sat up suddenly and swore. “Ugh, I forgot. Aang and I are going to be missing trivia this week. We’re both going to Gaoling to recruit some brats from Central.”

Aang made a noise of protest. “They’re not brats!” To the rest of the group, he explained, “We’re just going for a career fair. Pretty standard stuff, but there’s some dinner party social thing Wednesday night that we have to be in town for.”

Toph snorted. “Sounds like Gaoling. I’ll have to miss out this week too. My mother has informed me that my presence at tea this week is mandatory.” She sounded like she’d rather face a firing squad than attend her mother’s tea, and Zuko frankly couldn’t blame her.

Zuko looked to Suki. Trivia with just her and Katara sounded intimidating but not altogether unpleasant. While both were impressive and slightly scary, Zuko had spent most of his life surrounded by impressive scary women. 

“Sorry, Zuko, I’ve got a work thing going on too.” Her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “Some kind of team building event. We’re going to do one of those escape rooms to see if we can problem solve without managing to strangle each other.” She hummed. “I can’t decide if it’s going to be the worst thing ever or wildly entertaining.”

“Probably a little bit of both.” He looked around the circle, already disappointed to have his routine disrupted. “You’ll all have to report back next week then.”

Sokka nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll let Katara know. She’s going to be disappointed she couldn’t come today to see everyone.”

A thought so wild flashed through Zuko’s head that he considered asking Iroh to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t feverish. With everyone preoccupied, he could spent more time with Katara one on one. The thought of her eyes focused on him and her sly smile pointed his direction were almost enough to convince him to send her a text.

Doubt wormed it’s way into his thoughts after he said his goodbyes and went back to the second half of his shift. As nice of a talk as they’d had the day before, Zuko couldn’t expect Katara wanted to spend more time with him. All he’d done in that conversation was paint himself as a slacker dropout. Not exactly the caliber person that a person like Katara could catch. She was so far out of his league they might as well exist on other planets.

Zuko resigned himself to waiting another week to see all of his friends in one place again, and further resigned himself that Katara was just that—a friend. It didn’t matter if he desperately wanted to run his hands through her hair and spend hours in her company. He would be content with whatever he could get.   
________________________  
Zuko was eating lunch perched at the small table in the corner of the kitchen of The Jasmine Dragon on Wednesday when his phone buzzed. He was half hoping it was Sokka telling him that he would be home in time for trivia after all, but was surprised to see the other Kuruk sibling’s name.

_Do you want to get dinner tonight? My normal Wednesday plans seem to have been canceled_

Shock coursed through his body and he stared at his phone in absolute disbelief. He typed out a quick reply— _That sounds great_ —before wondering if he should have waited longer than 30 seconds to reply. Then Zuko scolded himself; he wasn’t an angsty teenager anymore. Katara was clearly on her lunch break too, and there was no point in pretending he hadn’t seen her message, even though he very much wanted to spend fifteen minutes panicking.

Katara’s first message was just a smiley face emoji. Then, _How do you feel about seafood?_

Zuko loved seafood, but a small part of him suspected that he would have told her seafood was good even if he didn’t. 

_Perfect! Meet me at Shinobi’s at 6:30?_

Zuko confirmed, and then set his phone down with their conversation open. He was staring at it a few moments later when Uncle walked in to drop off a new round of orders with Ping.

“Nephew?” Iroh had stopped halfway out the door back to the rest of the shop, his head tilted curiously to the side. He hid a smile when Zuko jerked at the sound of his voice. “Is something the matter?”

Zuko raised a hand to gesture hopelessly at his phone. “I’m going to dinner with Katara tonight.”

Iroh’s eyebrows lifted as far on his forehead as physically possible, and a grin spun wide. He moved close, leaning his elbows against the little table. “That’s wonderful, Nephew.” When Zuko didn’t elaborate, he continued. “Is this a…date?”

“I have no idea!” Zuko blew up, blowing all of the air out of his lungs. “I’ve been asking myself that question from the moment she texted me.” His hands went to his hair. “What if it is and I don’t even know it?” He frowned. “What if it _isn’t_ and I think it is?”

Uncle suppressed a smile. “Well, where are you going?”

“Shinobi’s.”

Iroh hummed thoughtfully. “Could go either way. Casual enough, but still a step up from a pub.” Zuko leveled a glare at Uncle that he hoped would express the fact that he wasn’t helping at all. Iroh’s answering chuckle suggested that he understood. “Are you picking her up or vice versa?”

“Neither, we’re meeting there separately.”

The same thoughtful noise escaped Iroh. “That could mean she wants it to be more friendly. Alternatively, Shinobi’s could be in the middle of you both and it simply makes more sense to transport yourselves.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “Uncle…this is not remotely helpful.”

Iroh reached out to pat Zuko’s shoulder gently and waited until he lifted his head. “I think the most important aspect to consider is this: do you _want_ it to be a date?”

_Oh, Agni, yes._ “Yes.” He didn’t bother attempting to temper the feeling. Uncle had always been able to read him better than he could read himself.

Iroh smiled, a soft, pleased thing. “Then treat it as such, and maybe make sure Katara knows you feel that way.”

He spent the remainder of his shift spiraling into a deep rooted panic. He messed up orders and jumped when customers moved any faster than a glacial pace, spilling tea on poor Madame Wu. Finally, Uncle forced him home an hour early with strict instructions to take a nap or something.

Zuko suspected that the ‘or something’ part of the suggestion was Uncle-speak for _chill the fuck out_. He was far too keyed up to nap, but decided on a shower. The water, almost hot enough to scald, helped release the tension in his muscles. He leaned his forehead against the cool tile and took deep breathes until he felt a bit more like himself.

The mirror began to defog as Zuko stood at the sink brushing his teeth—just in case this was a date, he wanted to be over-prepared. As his reflection became visible, he forced himself to look. If he couldn’t look at his own reflection, how could he go on a maybe-date with Katara?

He had been going back to the gym for about a month, and the difference was already startling. Now that he was eating regularly again—and the meals had some actual nutritional value—the weight he had lost during the first three months After was piling itself back on. Zuko had always been lithe rather than bulky, with broad swimmer’s shoulders. Wrapped in just a towel, his old pride flared a bit as he realized he was on his way to recognizing himself in the mirror again—well, most of him.

Zuko forced himself not to stare at his face and staged a strategic retreat to his closet, turning his back on the mirror there. Pushing any potential negative thoughts aside he instead forced himself to focus on the main issue at hand: what to wear on this maybe-date. He considered what he usually wore around Katara. He was almost always in his leather jacket at trivia because he came on his bike, and he didn’t count his Jasmine Dragon outfit—a brown long sleeve with that awful apron over top.

He settled on a simple dark red tee and a pair of dark jeans. Casual, like Shinobi’s, but put together enough that if it _was_ a date he looked the part. Plus he didn’t think Katara had ever seen him in any color besides black.

Zuko was sprawled on his stomach on the couch when Uncle got home at quarter to six, his bad eye pressed against the fabric as he scrolled through whatever nonsense he could find on his phone to try to distract himself. He tilted his head slightly and lifted the hand holding his phone off the ground to acknowledge Iroh. “Hi Uncle, how was the rest of the day?”

“It got better once my servers stopped dumping tea on loyal customers.”

Zuko sat up, feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry Uncle.” He sighed. “My mind wasn’t there at all today. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

Uncle came to join him on the sofa, gently squeezing his shoulder as he passed. “There is no need to apologize.”

They sat in comfortable silence, Iroh relaxing into the cushions. Zuko’s thoughts started to swirl again. He cleared his throat. “Uncle.” At Iroh’s sound of acknowledgment he continued. “I’m nervous about dinner. I don’t understand why Katara would want to go on a maybe-date with me.”

Admitting the fear out loud made Zuko shudder, but he did feel better after. Maybe Dr. How was on to something insisting that Zuko talk about his feelings instead of internalizing them.

“Well, she obviously wants to spend time with you or she wouldn’t have offered.”

“But _why_? She’s got this crazy job and does cool things helping her dad with the shop and she’s so pretty. And I’m me.” He sighed and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

Uncle was silent for a moment. “Zuko, you speak very highly of her, and my own brief interactions have left me with a very good impression. Perhaps it is not your place to doubt her judgment, if she is as smart as you say she is.”

Zuko hated when Uncle made good points. It meant that he couldn’t argue, and anytime he was feeling down he tended to revert to his petulant sixteen year old self. Instead, he sighed again.

“I also trust that she is capable of seeing what I see in you, Nephew,” Uncle continued, softer now. “And if that is true, I will be forever grateful to her for it.”

Emotion tugged in Zuko’s chest and he leaned toward Iroh, pressing their shoulders together to express his thanks. “Don’t get your hopes up too high, Uncle. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You never do.” After another moment of silence, Iroh perked up. “Now, let’s do something about your hair before you have to leave!” He jumped up off the sofa to look down at Zuko.

Zuko met Iroh’s enthusiasm with a scowl. “I will never forgive you for the travesty you placed upon me on my first ever date. I still haven’t recovered.” He forced a shudder, but the memory of that awful middle part was truly seared into his brain for the rest of his life.

Iroh laughed heartily, which just made Zuko scowl more deeply and scrunch lower in the couch. “Fine, fine, I’ll stay back. You should at least brush down those pieces in the back that you’ve mussed up throwing yourself all over the couch dramatically.”

Zuko grumbled the whole short trip to the bathroom, but had to admit that Iroh’s attempts to distract him were working. His hair was still at an awkward length that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with, but he managed to wrangle it into some semblance of shape before grabbing his wallet and phone from the counter and shoving them into his pockets.

Iroh tossed his car keys. “Take mine, I know you love driving it. And enjoy yourself. Tell Katara I said hello.”

For the hundredth time, Zuko was struck by how good Iroh was at caring for him. With the top down and the music turned up, Zuko’s mood was immediately buoyed. He was able to ignore the worry and allow the pleasant rush of anticipation overwhelm him.

Shinobi’s was busy but not crowded when Zuko stepped inside. He hovered in the entryway for a minute. It wasn’t the type of place for reservations, and he was early even if it was—only by ten minutes, due to all his panicking. He approached to hostess stand to get a table, deciding that he would feel more settled sitting down.

Taking the seat that left the majority of the restaurant to his right side, he settled in and pulled out his phone. _Your favorite chronically early person has a table near the back left corner._. He worried briefly that he was coming on a little strong, that this was only a maybe-date, but couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Two messages, back to back. He was beginning to grow accustomed to Katara’s preference to just send her thoughts as they came to her rather than waiting to form a complete one.

_Oh god._ Followed by, _I forgot. I should have told you 7 and you still might have beat me there._

Zuko chuckled. He remembered that Katara was usually the last one to arrive to trivia, and that she always walked into the dive shop calling an apology for being late when they went out on dives. There was a longer pause between the second and third message, but not long enough for him to type out a reply.

_I will be there in 15 minutes I promise!!!_

Zuko told her not to rush and relaxed in his chair, people watching. Eventually a waitress swung by, glancing from him to the empty seat with a calculating eye. “I’m early.” He ordered waters for the table and picked up the menu to glance through it when his phone vibrated again. For the second time that day, it was from the Kuruk sibling he hadn’t been expecting.

Sokka had sent a photo of whatever dinner event he was being forced to attend and said “I’d much rather be at trivia.” Some sort of scribbles that Zuko could absolutely not decipher covered up the majority of the image.

Zuko wasn’t good at the type of communication that would be needed to reply to such a message, but Sokka didn’t seem to care. A moment later, a second image appeared. The speaker at the podium was surrounded by Sokka’s rendition of…fire? But maybe those were fish? He gave up trying to figure it out when a new notification popped up and clicked to it instead.

This one required only a brief knowledge of Sokka to understand. Blue hearts surrounded every available space around the picture of his plate, the word ‘MEAT!!’ scrawled across the steak.

Zuko held his phone closer to his face, squinting at the next image. It seemed to be Aang, but zoomed in from a good distance across the room. Sokka seemed to have added hair, but Zuko was distracted from the rest of the art by Katara dropping into the seat across from him with a smile.

“Hi, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about the whole you-being-early-all-the-time thing.” She peered at his lowered phone. “Is that from Sokka?” She glanced at her own phone, dismissing some notifications before seeing her what must be her own list of original Sokka masterpieces. She huffed a laugh. “Don’t strain yourself, he’s the worst artist that has ever lived.”

Zuko wanted to think of a clever reply, but his brain was busy whirring as it tried to catch up. All signs were pointing that this maybe-date was possibly a probably-date. Katara was in a pair of light wash jeans and a simple black v-neck that showed off the delicate lines of her throat and collarbone, and also a necklace that he hadn’t noticed before. An elegant ring rested just below the hollow of her throat, a diamond surround by tiny sapphires. Her eyes were lightly lined, which made them somehow even more blue, and her lips were glossed. 

Zuko thought he was going to short circuit. “You look lovely.” Date or not, it seemed rude not to point out the obvious.

Color brushed Katara’s cheekbones and she smiled, the same shy smile from the Jasmine Dragon. “Thank you. That color suits you marvelously.” 

Their waitress appeared and hovered while they decided on splitting a bottle of wine—Zuko’s heart soared, definite date territory—and then took Katara’s order. Their phones continued to buzz with notifications from Sokka. While he was ordering, Zuko saw her scowl at her phone out of the corner of his eye. She picked it up and leveled it at the table, low enough that he wasn’t worried about being in the background. 

She set it aside and huffed as the waitress walked away. “I told him to stop interrupting my dinner.”

Zuko chuckled. “You do realize that now his table mates will have to deal with him?”

Katara shivered and took a sip of her wine. “Poor souls. I hope they have alcohol at that thing.”

“Probably not, if there’s students there.”

Katara made a face. “Ugh, you’re right.” She lifted her glass, reaching across the table toward him. “To all of the people stuck with my brother right now, I’m glad it’s them and not us.”

Zuko clinked his glass against hers, smirking. “I’d much rather be here.” The heat that rose to her cheeks made Zuko feel like he was on top of the world. “How was your day today? Carry out any vigilante justice?”

Katara scoffed. “You joke, but one of these days I’m worried the answer will be yes. All in all not a bad day. I had a two hour meeting with some of our directors going over our quarterly reporting metrics, which is never fun.” She went on to explain some of the new research she was gearing up to start in the coming weeks, and Zuko listened intently, just as captured by her passionate explanations as he was the first time they’d talked.

When she asked about his day, Zuko glossed over the details of her panic and carefully neglected to mention the incident that ended with Madame Wu covered in ginseng. Their food arrived, but steady conversation continued between bites. Zuko had always been a bit of an awkward mess when it came to polite conversation, but something about Katara brought out the best in him.

As they were polishing off the last of the wine, Katara leaned forward to briefly rest her head in her palm, her elbow on the table. It was a move that would have never been allowed in Zuko’s old life, and he was never so happy to leave it behind. The motion made the ring around her neck rock forward, catching his eye.

Katara noticed his attention shift, and sat up slightly, her hand lifting to wrap around it. She was silent for a moment, her eyes averting before flickering back up to him. “It was my mother’s.”

“Kya?” He guessed, remembering the photo of a much younger Hakoda smiling at a woman that hung prominently in the shop.

Katara nodded, swallowing heavily and taking another sip of her wine. “She died when I was very young. It was sudden—a car accident. We don’t really know exactly what happened.”

“I’m sorry. That’s something we have in common.” Of course, the extremely mysterious disappearance of his mother and subsequent discovery of her body weeks later at one of Ozai’s various properties was not quite the same as what Katara described. But that was a bit much to get into _ever_ , let alone on a first probably-date.

Katara managed a weak smile and then shook her shoulders out. “It’s been a long time, but you never really stop missing them, right?”

Zuko nodded his agreement before being caught off guard by her next question. The warning bells should have been clanging in his head as soon as he’d brought up his family, but this meal with Katara felt like a peaceful bubble.

“Is that why you live with your Uncle? Something happened with your parents?”

It was an innocent question, coming from a place of genuine curiosity and an obvious desire to be open with one another. Zuko battled every instinct that told him to shut down. “Yes, but not in the way you’re imagining.” His voice came out gruffly. “My father’s alive, unfortunately.” The last word was meant to be under his breath, but he could tell she heard. 

He sighed. “I really don’t want to spoil dinner talking about my family. At least not that part. Uncle said hello, by the way.”

Katara allowed him the topic change with grace, though he could almost see the questions popping up in her mind. “Tell him I say hello too. I’d love to stop back at the Jasmine Dragon to see him again sometime.” She smirked at him over the rim of her wine glass as she took the last sip. “Plus, the servers are overqualified, but cute.”

Zuko was immediately filled with gratitude and outright affection for Katara. She sensed not to push and changed to subject to something happier, even throwing in a nice distracting compliment as a bonus. “It’s all in the aprons.”

She allowed him to pay for dinner with very little resistance, pushing the evening into almost-definitely-a-date territory. Katara continued to distract him from the small damper on the evening by telling embarrassing stories about Sokka, which worked wonders until they stood to leave.

They lingered outside the restaurant doors, both seemingly unwilling to part. It had felt like a date, and Zuko desperately wanted Katara to agree. She fiddled with her keys before sucking in a breath and turning toward him. Zuko had never noticed how much taller he was until he tilted his head down to meet her gaze.

Suddenly, he realized that Katara was the one who had texted him first, had invited him here. He had it in him to make the first move now. “Katara, I don’t know if you intended for this to be a date, but I’ve been spending all day hoping that you did. I had a wonderful time and would love to do this again, if you’ll let me.”

All of the air rushed out of Katara’s body at once. “Oh, thank La,” she muttered to herself, but still loud enough for him to hear. “I didn’t want to come on too strong, but I was hoping you would take it that way.” She wrapped her fingers around his palm, squeezing lightly. “Let’s please do this again.”

Zuko squeezed her hand back, his smile stretching out wider than he remembered it ever doing After. “Do you have a dive Saturday?” When she nodded, he continued. “How about something relaxing after? I can pick you up.”

Katara beamed. “That sounds perfect. My dad’s worst fatherhood nightmare will come true if he knows I got on that bike with you.”

Zuko chuckled. “I’ll take Uncle’s car if it would make you feel better.” If he was being honest with himself, either option was fine. Katara’s arms wrapped around his waist rivaled with the image of her hair whipping back in the passenger seat of the convertible. 

“I never said anything about needing to make _me_ feel better.” She leaned in to jostle his shoulder. “Surprise me.” Reluctance written all over her face, she released Zuko’s hand with one last squeeze. “Thanks for dinner, Zuko. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Goodnight, Katara.” He felt nearly giddy the whole way home and burst in the front door, startling Uncle from his resting place on the couch. “It was a date!”

“And I take it things went well?” 

Zuko slumped down into the corner of the couch across from Uncle with a pleased sigh. “Yes. We’re going to see each other again on Saturday.”

Iroh didn’t bother trying to reign in his smile, sharing Zuko’s enthusiasm and gently asking for details about how dinner would go, and what his plans were for the weekend.

They exchanged a few texts for the rest of the week, and on Saturday afternoon Katara sent her address and a time that she would be ready for whatever he had planned. He was outside her townhouse ten minutes early, and forced himself to wait five minutes before knocking on the door.

Katara appeared, grinning at him. She was only wearing one shoe. “It worked! I told you a time twenty minutes after I thought I would actually be ready.” She leaned against the door to pull on her other shoe, teetering slightly until Zuko reached out to steady her with one hand.

“I was here five minutes ago but forced myself to wait in the parking lot.” He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the way she smiled at him. “I brought you a present.” The question was written all over her face, and turned to surprise when he pulled a helmet from behind his back. “Safety first. I get the sense that your father could and would not hesitate to kill me if anything happened to you.”

Zuko had not appropriately imagined how good Katara’s arms felt wrapped around her wait, or the sound of her happy giggle once they got moving. Step one of his plan went off without a hitch, but he hadn’t been too worried. Pizza slices the size of an adult’s torso were usually a hit.

What had meant to be a low-key, relaxing second event turned out to be something else entirely as Zuko learned that Katara was perhaps the most competitive person he’d ever met—and he’d grown up with Azula for a little sister. 

“I will not hesitate to break your kneecaps,” she threatened, glaring between her blue golf ball, the ridiculous dragon sculpture standing between her and the hole, and Zuko, who was off to the side trash talking.

With only one hole remaining, they were locked in a dead tie. After one of his updates halfway through the course, Katara had snatched the scorecard away from him, staring at it as if she didn’t trust his math. He smirked at her scowl, accepting the tiny pencil and paper being shoved back at his chest with what he thought was great dignity. 

He hadn’t laughed so much in a long time. They were both awful miniature golfers, but that didn’t stop the competition. They alternated greatness and true horror, but never on the same hole as each other. Zuko hit a hole in one of the third hole, where Katara maxed out at seven strokes, per the rules. Two holes later, Zuko knocked his ball into the water on consecutive strokes, never making it even halfway to the hole before being forced to give up. Katara managed two strokes on the par-four hole.

Katara’s first shot clunked off the dragon’s leg, rolling all the way back to the start.

“Agni, you are awful at this.”

She glared, and raised the club at him. “Kneecaps.” The second shot managed to end up in the vicinity of Zuko’s, which wasn’t exactly close to the hole either. 

As she trudged past him, Zuko looped an arm around her shoulder, pressing her against him for a moment as they moved. It was a lovely summer night, with bugs buzzing and the sun stubbornly trying to remain in the sky. Katara was a sight to behold when she was trying to win and he felt fantastic. Despite her impressively violent threats against his person, Katara smiled softly up at him, leaning in.

The soft moment didn’t last. Katara’s face scrunched up, an adorable furrow appearing between her eyebrows. She let loose two practice swings, which made Zuko heckle her more. She nailed the putt, throwing both arms above her head and leaping into the air. Zuko was impressed, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. 

He was still a stroke ahead after Katara’s run in with the dragon on her first shot. Zuko felt pretty good about the line he’d teed up. The moment that he began his forward swing, Katara called his name loudly. He turned immediately toward her, the swing going wildly off target, and was greeted by the brief look of shock that crossed her face before she dissolved into cackles. She bent nearly in half, resting her forehead against her hand on the top of her club.

Zuko growled. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that one, Dr. Kuruk. When you least expect it.” His ball had ended up in terrible spot, with no good angle on the hole. It took him two more tries to sink a shot, the ball clunking as it disappeared down the return chute. He joined Katara on the sidewalk leading back to the shop.

She tossed her braid over her shoulder and patted his shoulder sympathetically. “We can’t all be winners.”

“You better start sleeping with one eye open.”

Katara giggled. They entered the shop, greeted by a blast of air conditioning. Zuko grabbed her club and returned them both to the wall. “Ice cream?” He asked when he returned to her side.

As they stood in the short line on the other side of the shop, the older couple who had been playing behind them approached. Zuko had exchanging a friendly head nod in their direction, and had heard Katara exchange words on more than one occasion when their terrible play held the couple up. From what he could observe, Zuko assumed they had lots of practice on the mini golf course.

The man stopped to smirk at Zuko and Katara. “I’ve never seen two people so competitive about something they’re terrible at.” 

Zuko felt a flush rise to his cheeks, and saw some color reach Katara’s too. “Yes, well…” she started sheepishly, “I can’t really help myself and he can give as good as he gets.” She lifted her head to smile at Zuko.

The woman wrapped a hand around her husband’s elbow, beaming at them both. “It was such fun to watch you play. You make a handsome couple.” She winked, moving with them as they stepped forward in line. “Maybe in a few decades you’ll be as good as Ryku and I.”

Katara blushed more thoroughly and stammered a thank you.

“Maybe a few centuries. We are quite terrible.” His smirk was met by two broad smiles and a chuckle from Ryku.

“Have a lovely rest of your evening, dears.”

Katara waved as they wandered off before leaning her head against Zuko’s shoulder with a soft sigh. “I can’t believe I threatened to break your kneecaps in front of such nice old people.”

Zuko barked a laugh and in a rush of good feeling bent to drop a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re such a violent little creature. I kind of like it.” Dr. How would probably want to examine that statement for reference to more of the myriad trauma his family had inflicted upon him, but Zuko’s thoughts were entirely too light from Katara’s presence too think too deeply about that.

They ate their ice cream leaning against the fence outside the shop, Katara backlit by the last dying rays of sunlight. “I think this was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“Me too.”

She leaned against him again. “Thanks, Zuko.” He wasn’t entirely sure what she was thanking him for, but he’d do it over and over again if it brought a smile to her face.

“Anytime.” 

When he dropped her back at her townhouse, Katara leaned in to kiss his cheek. As she pulled away, he followed slowly, pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back slow and sweet, one cool hand lifting to twist into his hair and the other gripping his waist.

“Goodnight, Katara,” he breathed into her hair when they separated, pressing one more kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

She whispered her goodbye and waved from the doorway when he looked back after settling onto his bike. He fell into bed that night and stared at the ceiling, thinking that maybe, for once in his life, he had stumbled into some good luck.   
________________________  
Katara was idly wandering the living room, squinting at the books and knickknacks Uncle had placed throughout the room. They had met for dinner on the night of canceled trivia a little over a month earlier, but he had never brought her over to the house while Uncle was gone. Her unending curiosity had clearly caused her to wander the moment Zuko left her alone.

Watching from the entryway allowed him a moment to take her in. The furrow had appeared between her eyebrows as she absorbed as much information as possible. His breath caught when she paused in front of a framed photo from his birthday two years ago. She turned and met his gaze immediately, an expression he couldn’t read all over her face.

Zuko made his way over, dragging the weight in his stomach begging to remain on the other side of the room. He looked at her shoulder, unable to make eye contact. The photo was so solidly from Before. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t made Uncle take it down, but he hadn’t even noticed it. 

They were standing outside The Tigerlily, Zuko with an arm slung around Uncle’s shoulders. As was tradition, they were in their favorite suits, and were both beaming at the camera about something he couldn’t remember anymore. 

“Zuko…” Katara’s broken whisper made something crumple in his chest. He dropped his eyes even lower, twisting the left side of his face away. He could still see when she lifted her hand to trace the picture frame gently. 

Zuko felt her attention shift to him, but the pit in his stomach was clawing its way up into his chest and continuing to breathe was suddenly his only priority. 

Katara’s hand slid gently through the hair falling into his face, his head tilted to the floor. “Your hair was so long.” Her voice was still so soft. She dropped her arm, letting her fingers trace the length of his arm before wrapping around his palm. “You looked so happy. I—I’ve never seen you look that happy.”

Zuko drew in a shuddering breath. “It’s been a…hard seven months.” He forced himself to lift his eyes and meet her gaze. “You make me feel that happy. You’re the only thing that has even come close to making me feel happy.” He twisted his entire body away, her fingers dropping. “My face just can’t make that expression anymore.”

Katara stepped directly into his personal space, forcing him to open his shoulders to her. She pressed her forehead against his and slowly, so, so slowly lifted her hand.

Zuko froze. She had brushed against the edges of the scar before, usually running her hands through his hair during a more passionate kiss. This was different. His awareness of her fingers was faint, so much that he thought maybe he was imagining the tingling left behind as they smoothed over the ruined skin. His eyes closed. “Katara.”

She made a soft sound, her entire palm wrapped around the left side of his face, her pinky curved around his jaw, her thumb brushing the edge between clear skin and scar. A gentle press of her lips to his. “You’re beautiful.” She drew her head back, just enough to lift up to kiss his nose. “I wish you could see how beautiful you are to me.” Her lips swiped from his nose along the edge of the scar.

Zuko’s hands were clutching tightly at her waist. He tried again. “Katara.” Whatever else he’d been planning on saying was lost to the feel of her lips on his jaw, kissing down his neck. The hand she’d touched his scar with slid down his back and under the hem of his shirt, the other reaching up to wrap around his hair.

“Katara,” he managed again, this one a growl, his thumb tracking the soft skin of her hipbone. He’d been taking things slow, desperate not to mess things up, but that resolve was running out rapidly. The soft sounds she made when he dropped a kiss behind her ear, at the junction of her neck and shoulder, when he gently bit her lower lip—they pushed the dark pit out of his lungs and down deep into his stomach, filling it instead with a simple hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Maybe,” Katara gasped, her body pressed tightly against his, “we could push dinner back a little bit?”

“That’s a great idea.” Zuko lifted her up, chuckling at her surprised squeak as he navigated them to his bedroom. “You’re so smart, I knew dating a doctor was the right move.”

“Not a real doctor,” Katara muttered, kissing his neck, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Zuko hissed. “Hush, you’re a real doctor.” He bent down to drop her gently onto the bed, following when she refused to release the grip her legs had on him. “Don’t downplay your achievements.” The words were spoken into the junction of her neck and shoulder, against her collarbone.

Katara made a soft sound and pulled him more tightly against her. “Zuko.”

His name through her lips sent a shiver down his spine and Zuko knew in that moment that he was powerless to deny her anything. Their limbs tangled together and every touch lit a fire that Zuko felt threatened to consume him entirely. Every press of Katara’s lips, every soft sound she made, every tiny motion of her body—it all sent a shock straight to his soul.

After, Zuko pressed a soft kiss to Katara’s forehead. She curled her arms and one leg around him, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hair had come loose of it’s bun and was sprawled messily across his sheets, and Zuko had never seen such a beautiful thing.

Katara hummed thoughtfully and twisted her head to kiss his chest, just above his heart. “I’m going to get you to smile like you did in that photo if it’s the last thing I do.”

An hour earlier and the statement would have made Zuko bristle and get defensive. Instead, he pulled Katara closer and let loose a sigh. “For you, I think I could.”

________________________

It was a Thursday, which was Zuko’s second favorite day of the week—after Wednesday trivia. The Jasmine Dragon didn’t open until 10:30 on Thursdays, and he enjoyed the lazy mornings eating breakfast with Uncle and dedicating time to the books Katara lent him to read.

Zuko blundered into the kitchen after a shower, expecting to see Iroh sipping his tea and reading the newspaper or bustling around the kitchen. Instead, he stopped short, his breath catching in a startling flash of panic.

He eyed the thick envelope that Iroh slid him across the table warily. “Nothing I’ve ever wanted to see came in an envelope like that.” Uncle’s slightly grim expression wasn’t helping curb the feeling of dread crawling up his sides.

“It’s not bad news.”

Zuko settled into a seat and pulled the envelope closer. “Then why are you making that face?” His Uncle never lied to him, but something about the interaction felt off.

Iroh relaxed back into his chair and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before managing a smile. “It has been an unpleasant year of work, but it’s done.” He gestured for Zuko to open the envelope.

A stack of papers slid out and into Zuko’s hands. He was intimately familiar with the letterhead: Sozin Enterprises. He felt his eyebrows lift and glanced to Iroh briefly before diving into the top document, fighting through the legal jargon he was out of practice deciphering. As he read, shock washed over his body. He flipped quickly through the other pages, most of which were printouts of bank accounts and a number of non-disclosure agreements and other contracts.

“Uncle…how did you do this?”

“I formally signed over all of my stake in Sozin Enterprises and withdrew my name from all controlling documents.”

Zuko’s mouth dropped open. Uncle had maintained a small majority ownership in the company even after he left, as part of his father’s will. It was the only thing that prevented Ozai from doing truly anything he wanted. Every six months, representatives from Sozin Enterprises’ legal group tried to present him with a new offer to buy him out.

“You have to do the same, but I assume that won’t be an issue.”

Zuko swallowed against the growing tightness in his throat. “But Uncle, you always turned down their offers. That money helps you run The Jasmine Dragon.”

Iroh smiled softly. “Zuko, The Jasmine Dragon has been self-sufficient for years. Those stocks haven’t been anything more than an insurance policy for about a decade. I’ve been turning down all of their offers so that I still had a hand to play when I needed it.”

“When you needed it…” Zuko flipped the cover page again, staring at the truly absurd sum listed at the bottom of the printout of the bank account that Sozin Enterprises had been funneling money into since Zuko had been born. His mother had cleverly included a stipulation that no money could be removed and payments couldn’t be stopped unless very strict conditions regarding the financial situation of Sozin Enterprises were met.

Iroh smiled a bit sadly. “I was afraid that those shares might be the only leverage I had to protect you if you needed it. I am so sorry that those fears became true and I will never forgive myself for not doing a better job of keeping you safe. But I am so thankful that you are here now, and this was the least I can do.”

Zuko was around to Iroh’s side of the table in an instant, wrapping his arms around him. “Uncle,” the words spoken into Iroh’s shoulder were full of tears. “There is nothing to forgive. I’m sorry it took so long for me to find my way back.”

Uncle chuckled softly, but Zuko could tell he was crying too. “Oh, my dear boy. You know I could never be upset with you.” Zuko moved to lean gently against Iroh’s shoulder and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Zuko’s thoughts were whirling. He had truly not expected to ever see any of money he knew was idling somewhere. The money his mother had left him, from her own parents, was enough of a safety stock to keep him on his feet during the initial recovery. He was content in the tea shop, but knew he’d probably eventually need to get a real job to support dreams of a future he barely allowed himself to think about.

A future where he could support Katara, to spoil her absolutely rotten. To have a home together, a life. Maybe, someday, tiny versions of her—always her, because he couldn’t think of anything more perfect—to spoil rotten as well. 

And _now_. Things were looking up, for the first time in longer than Zuko could remember. He might still be an almost thirty year old man living with his Uncle and working in a tea shop, sure. But he had a way out, a way forward.

“I’m going to see if Katara is free tonight. To celebrate.” He could sense Uncle’s smile as he hurried to grab his phone from the other room. He was riding the high of the good news, and Katara was the only person he wanted to share it with. They were approaching six months of dating, and she had quickly become the most important person in his life. Well, maybe just slightly behind Uncle.

_Are you free for dinner tonight? I got some good news and want to take you out to celebrate_

He knew that Katara was in the lab, so was expecting some delay in her response. When his phone buzzed only a minute later, Zuko thought that maybe this was the point where things started turning around for him.

_Hey good timing! I just took a break to grab another coffee (don’t tell Uncle!!). I should be able to leave here at 4:30. Can I have a hint about the news?_

He almost felt bad for wanting to tell her in person. The curiosity was going to drive her mad. He pulled up the number for the Tigerlily and tapped his fingers anxiously waiting for them to pick up. A day-of reservation was wildly unheard of. It would have made him squirm the day before, but that stack of papers proving that a chunk of Sozin Enterprises’ money was in a bank account with his name on it made him feel a little bit better about throwing his weight around. “Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for two for tonight. The name is Sozin.”

The hostess had gasped in shock when he’d said ‘tonight’, but there was a long pause at the end of her request. “Thank you for considering us for your evening, Mr. Sozin. We can do a table for two at 7:30 if that works for your schedule.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you.” He beamed down at his phone. _Sorry, no hints. I’ll pick you up at 7. I’ll be in a suit. Let me know what color tie I should wear._

Katara sent a few more anxious texts begging for details, but Zuko continued to play coy. He floated through his shift at the Jasmine Dragon, and before he even realized it the day was nearly gone.

He was standing in his closet buttoning up a crisp white dress shirt, eyes going between his collection of ties and the picture Katara had sent him of the dress she was going to be wearing. Zuko had grinned at the image, wishing she had been wearing it in the photo instead of just flinging it across her bed. It would make the wait worth it, to see her in person.

He pulled his favorite suit out of it’s dry cleaner bag. It hadn’t been out of the bag in over a year. Zuko’s birthday was a month and a half after the incident, and he hadn’t particularly felt like celebrating with Uncle in their traditional way. Shrugging it out, Zuko was relieved to find that it still fit nicely. All of the weight he’d lost in the first few months was back.

He looked in the mirror and straightened his shoulders, trying to infuse some of his old confidence into his stance. He was aware of the fact that he could fill out a suit in an objectively pleasing way. The way Katara’s hands traced over the planes of his chest, wrapped around his shoulders, squeezed his arms, helped prove that—all little things that, on good days, helped him feel more like his old self.

His phone started ringing as he attached his cufflinks. He balanced it on the shelf and set it on speaker. “Where are we going!”

He laughed. “I know you know what the word surprise means, Katara.”

“I feel like I’m overdressed.”

“There is almost no way you can be overdressed.” Zuko met his own gaze in the mirror. From the neck down, he could have passed for the old Zuko. The scar was something different. He twisted his head away, peeking at his reflection out of his right eye only. In profile, there was nothing wrong with him.

Katara groaned extravagantly. “None of this is making me feel better. I’m not used to dressing up for things and you’re going to look so good.”

Warmth flooded through him, and he turned to look at himself head on. With her voice in the background, panicking about what shoes to wear, Zuko could almost convince himself of what she insisted she saw when she looked at him. His heart squeezed tightly and he interrupted her, clearing his throat against the emotion building. “Katara. The dress looks lovely. As long as the shoes aren’t orange anything you pick will be fine. You are working yourself up over nothing.”

She made a soft huffing noise that Zuko recognized as accepting defeat. “I’m leaving to come get you now. See you soon.” He grabbed Uncle’s keys, and was giddy the whole way to her townhouse. The windows were rolled down and the music was too loud and he’d have Katara in his arms in minutes.

Zuko’s breath caught when she opened the door. The dress was blue—of course it was—but a deep navy he’d never seen on her before. It made her eyes seem lighter. Her hair was down, which he liked to think she did on purpose because she knew how much he liked it that way. “You look beautiful.” It was true.

Her automatic smile caught, and he found himself faltering slightly. “Zuko,” Katara whispered, reaching a hand for his sleeve gently, the other going to his unscarred cheek. Her smile was back, his heart unclenching at the sight, and it grew wider and wider. “That was the smile.” She lifted onto her toes to kiss him, soft and sweet. The grin grew slightly wicked as she pulled back to run her eyes up and down. “Hot damn, it’s better than I imagined.”

Zuko laughed lightly, but he could still feel the smile plastered all over his face. He buried his face in her hair as she turned to lock her door, growling lightly in her ear. “It’d look better on your floor.”

She elbowed him with a snort. “Wow, where’d you come up with that one?” It was a short trip to the Tigerlily but Katara made the most of it, pestering him for details and making wild guesses that made them both laugh.

She gasped softly as Zuko eased the car into the valet line. “Have you had this planned?”

“No. I told you. I got good news this morning and wanted to celebrate with you.”

“Zuko!” She had to pause whatever she was going to say as her door was opened, one of the valets greeting her warmly. When Zuko met her on the passenger side, she slung her arm through his offered elbow and lowered her voice, leaning into his side. “You have to book reservations here weeks in advance.”

He shot her a wink. “I have my ways.”

Katara looked like she wanted to argue the point but shook her head, craning her neck back to study to elaborate ceiling as they entered the building. Zuko left her to gape at the massive fish tank built into one of he walls and approached the hostess. He was in such a good mood that he almost didn’t notice the way she flinched at the scar. Almost. “Sozin, table for 2.”

The hostess fumbled over herself to welcome him, and waited patiently for him to collect Katara, who was eying the tank with a small furrow between her eyebrows. Their table was more in the center of the restaurant than he would normally have liked, but Zuko wasn’t going to complain about being fit in at all.

Zuko alternated between three favorites and didn’t bother looking at the menu, instead perusing the wine list while he tried not to notice Katara across the table from him. She was lovely in the low light, the candle at the center of the table casting small shadows across her face. Her eyes flew over the menu, the little furrow back again as she concentrated.

She looked up and caught him staring, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. “What do you recommend?”

Zuko hummed thoughtfully. “I’m getting the lamb, it’s my favorite. You’re welcome to some of it too. I also like the crab cakes or the salmon. And you can’t go wrong with any of the steaks. Really, whatever you’re in the mood for.”

Katara considered. “I’m feeling a steak, I think.”

“Perfect, I’ll pick a wine.” He went back to the menu, and ordered a bottle when the waiter appeared with their salads. Katara was practically vibrating in the seat across from him, staring at him with her fork half raised but not taking a bite.

“What happened.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand.

“Patience!” He laughed as she scowled, and then bit his lip to keep from laughing more as she wiped it off her face when the waiter returned, brandishing the bottle. Zuko waved his arm in Katara’s direction, watching her try the first sips. The sound of contented surprise sent a shock through him, as did the beaming smile she leveled at the waiter, allowing him to fill her glass before moving to Zuko.

Left alone again, Zuko grabbed his glass and pulled it to him. “Do you remember a few months ago at trivia when Toph was talking about her inheritance being held hostage?” Katara had sat bolt upright as soon as he started talking. Zuko could tell she hadn’t been expecting this to be where he started. “I meant what I said then about never expecting to see any of my own. My—father—had it tied up. My uncle has apparently been working out a deal for months and everything went through.” He let loose a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “How much vacation do you have for the rest of the year? We can go anywhere you want. Anywhere. But it’s not about the money, really. It’s being done with all of that for good. And it feels really damn good knowing he can’t hold this over me.”

Katara was staring, her eyes wide. He smiled softly at her, lifting his wine glass. “So, to continuing this fresh start, which has turned out to be pretty fantastic.”

________________________

The bill had been paid and they were finishing off the last of their wine when the back of Zuko’s neck prickled slightly. He rubbed at it gently, casting a short glance around before being distracted by the way Katara’s eyes shone over the rim of her glass.

“Zuko.” It was a familiar drawl. Someone had dumped ice water all over the warm happiness in his stomach. Every muscle in his body clenched. The voice was coming from behind him, to the left. His most vulnerable angle. “I’m surprised you had it in you to show your…face here.”

Katara’s eyes were wide. She was looking at Zuko, mostly, but occasionally her gaze flicked up to Ozai, standing with his arms crossed casually right next to their table.

Zuko hadn’t seen his father since he’d walked out of the hospital room nearly a year earlier. He should have known. It was too good of a day. He knew he needed to say something, do something, do _anything_. But he couldn’t. He was back in that old dining room, his arms and legs pinned to the table and Ozai’s face looming over him. He tried to suck in a breath.

He was frozen, looking up at Ozai’s sneer. He could feel the weight of Katara’s gaze but he still. couldn’t. move.

“And I see you’ve taken to Water Tribe tramps reaching far above their status. I expected you to fall, but this is a new low.”

The slight to Katara was enough to shake him out of his daze but she was quicker. He watched the scene as if he were seeing a movie play out. 

Katara was up out of her seat, drawing herself to her full height—a good six inches shorter than Ozai, even in her heels. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, which were held back at a tilt that looked _dangerous_. She smiled sweetly, but the way she angled her head to the side made the hair on the back of Zuko’s neck stand up. Her hand jutted out toward Ozai. “Dr. Katara Kuruk.” He’d never heard her introduce herself with the title, but there was no mistaking the emphasis this time. Ozai ignored her hand, which quickly found her hip instead.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what status I might be reaching for?” She phrased it as a question and asked in her most sincere voice, but there was no mistaking the edge to every word. “I have the highest possible degree in my field, my father is the CEO of his company, and I’m the director of my research laboratory. I’m quite comfortable with my current position.”

Katara quirked an eyebrow and took a step forward. Ozai didn’t give ground, but his shoulders did rear back slightly. “However, I am well accustomed to cowardly men in power hiding behind a suit to mask all of their failures.” Her hand waved idly at him. “I recognize one when I see one, because I’ve been cleaning up the messes they create from their pathetic, over-inflated egos since I was a child. Now, I’d recommend you stay the fuck away from Zuko unless you’d like to be the one unwilling to show his face around a place like this.” Her pointer finger stabbed viciously at his chest, and this time Ozai did yield a step. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure, Mr. Sozin, but I’d sooner drown than spend another minute in your presence. Enjoy the rest of your life, I hope it is miserable and short.” 

She shouldered past Ozai, grabbed Zuko’s wrist and patted his pocket to ensure his wallet was tucked inside. The next thing he knew they were walking out the front doors of the restaurant. Katara shoved him in the passenger seat of Uncle’s car. Then they were parked in a grocery store lot a half mile down the road.

Zuko was hyperventilating into the dashboard. Katara reached over and gently pressed against his shoulder, not saying a word. Eventually, he sat back up and stared out at the empty expanse of parking lot. “It wasn’t an accident.”

Katara didn’t say anything, but her hand moved from his shoulder to his hand. She waited.

“It wasn’t an accident. I told him he was a monster for supplying weapons and ammunition to terrorist groups who murder kids for sport. So he had his guards pin me to a table and poured burning cooking oil _on my fucking face_ to teach me a lesson. And then he fired me while I was in the hospital.”

He couldn’t tell who was squeezing the other’s hand tighter. He forced himself to turn to look at Katara, who was crying silent tears in the driver’s seat, her legs curled up under her so that she could face him fully. “I’m so fucked up, Kat. I mean, obviously that was the last straw but there was years of build up. I’m afraid that he’s ruined me, and not just on the outside.” He let out a laugh that was actually a sob. 

“And you. Agni, you didn’t even blink. I don’t think anyone’s ever talked to him like that in his whole life and it was amazing. I don’t deserve you. You’re incredible and brave and I’m a barely functioning disaster. I’m so afraid that he’s broken me and that I’m going to fuck this up and I could never forgive myself if I hurt you the way he hurts everyone. I love you so much and I’m just so, so afraid of not being able to be the person you deserve.”

Katara’s sharp intake of breath brought his ramble to an abrupt halt. “Zuko.” Lines of tears streaked down her cheeks but her eyes were dry. “Zuko. I am so sorry. You’re not broken, and you’re not your father.” She reached across to hold his face in her hands, as soft and gentle as always. “Every day I spend with you brings me a little more joy than the one before. You are kind and intelligent and passionate and whether you think I deserve better or not, _you’re_ the one that I want to be with.”

Zuko ducked his head and heaved a sigh. She stretched to drop a kiss to the crown of her head, and then pressed her forehead to his. In a much softer voice, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Zuko had said many things, but he was sure he’d be meant all of them. Once he started talking he usually had trouble stopping. And he was a terrible liar.

Katara pulled away and lifted his chin to make eye contact. “You said that you love me.”

Zuko felt his eyes widen and his heart fell to his stomach. Even before she did the sexiest thing he could possibly imagine and stood up to his father on his behalf, the words had been on the tip of Zuko’s tongue all night. He certainly hadn’t planned on dropping them in the middle of some sort of rambling crisis that he could barely remember, though. “I wish I had told you with a little less hyperventilating and a little more romance, but yes. I meant it. I love you, Katara.”

She smiled, kissing him softly. “I love you too.” Another kiss, a small huff of laughter. “I thought it was quite romantic, actually. The stream of consciousness really made it seem genuine.” He could tell that she meant it, despite the teasing tone.

He tried to huff in protest, but couldn’t help smiling and leaning in to kiss her more. Her cheeks were still wet and his chest hurt but his heart was soaring. 

“Let’s go home.”

He nodded in agreement, dropping one more lingering kiss before allowing her to settle back in the driver’s seat. It was a short trip, but Zuko allowed his mind to drift. The panic lingered at the pit of his stomach, but all of his senses were overwhelmed by _Katara_. As they pulled onto her street, he twisted his head to look at her. Passing streetlights cast her in their glow. “Thank you.”

She met his gaze, the blue of her eyes sparkling from another streetlight. “Anything, for you.” He squeezed her hand tighter. 

Katara threw the car in park. They both sat in silence for a moment, afraid to disturb the peaceful bubble they’d created. Then her face screwed up. “I should have stabbed him with my steak knife.”

He laughed. “I much prefer you not in prison.”

“It would have looked like an accident, obviously.” She smiled at him and popped open her door. “I am a little sad that I had to leave my leftovers behind though. I think picking them up on the way out would have taken away from my point…”

Zuko kissed her temple as she unlocked the door. “We can go back tomorrow.”

Katara smirked, kicking her shoes off and loosening the knot of his tie. Her fingers trailed down his buttons and she shucked both his jacket and shirt off together. “In all the excitement I almost forgot. What do you think about Ember Island for that vacation you promised? They’ve got the best diving on earth. I’d love to show you my mom’s favorite spot.”

“That sounds perfect.” He allowed her to drag him to the bedroom, pulling her tight against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed kisses to his collarbone and above his heart. He fell asleep to thoughts of her, and dreamed of the sun on her shoulders, her hair fanned out in the water, her hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, life comes at you fast. I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this, and am so grateful to all your kind words and kudos. I hope you are all doing well in these continued crazy times, and that this story could bring you a little bit of joy. Feedback is always appreciated :)


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